Collision
by JennMel
Summary: Blaine was sailing to America to meet the girl who would be his wife. Kurt had won the dream tickets that would take him and his brother home. Two people amidst a thousand doomed souls find love in one of the darkest hours of history; aboard Titanic...
1. Chapter 1

****Author Notes: Don't ask me where this one came from, I really have no idea! But when it hit me, I couldn't let it go! It took me a long while to decide who should be who, but I wouldn't have it any other way now. This fic is a shameless rewrite of the lovestory aboard the Titanic, retold for Klaine. I have used some lines word for word, whereas elsewhere things will deviate - most obviously in that we'll be dealing with two boys falling in love! I hope you like my retelling of this story, and like all fanfiction, it is inspired by the original material, both Glee and James Cameron's Titanic.

**Collision**

Chapter One

"Straighten your shoulders, Blaine."

His mother's admonishing tone snapped Blaine from his thoughts as he stared absently out of the carriage window, watching the hustle of the port pass them by. "Sorry, Mother."

They rolled to a halt, and the door was opened for them. Blaine watched dully as Sebastian Smythe gracefully stepped out and offered Blaine's mother a hand to step out, before Blaine dutifully followed.

And then he saw it. Despite himself, he couldn't help but let a small gasp of wonder escape his lips as he stared up at the majestic vessel, the ship that would take him home to America. How could anything so grand sail the ocean? The sea breeze played gently across his face as he greeted the ship with wonder filled eyes. It wasn't Titanic's fault it was taking him to a life as a slave, to be bound in invisible chains, of a marriage he didn't want…

"Blaine! Come on!" Sebastian said sharply, his tone condescending as it always was, "Honestly, you can stare at it when we're on board. Sometimes I wonder where that head of yours is…"

Blaine felt his body jerk involuntarily, years of etiquette practice and schooling forcing his muscles into a more appropriate stance. Sebastian had already offered his arm to Blaine's mother, and so the younger man followed them up behind.

"They say it is unsinkable. What a marvel…" Blaine grimaced as his mother made small talk on Sebastian's arm.

As he stepped off the ramp and onto the plush carpet of the brand new ship, the scent of still fresh wood polish and paint wafting up his nose, mixing with the tang of salt from the air, his feet felt even more like lead than they had before.

The deed was done. He would go to America. The Anderson and Smythe families would unite by his taking Sebastian's sister as a wife; a girl he hadn't even met. Blaine would then take up a respectable position within Smythe Enterprises – something to do with mills; Blaine really didn't care enough to remember. And his family would be saved from destitution.

Blaine would do as his mother and father willed. His father already awaited them in America, and it would not be long before Blaine and his mother joined him there. Sebastian had been doing some business in London, and also been tasked – very discretely, of course – to keeping Blaine on track, and make sure he made it to his sister's wedding.

Why did he feel like he was signing his own death warrant?

* * *

Kurt Hummel tapped his forefinger on the beer-soaked wood of the table, shooting a grin at a _decidedly _nervous Finn Hudson, his stepbrother. He allowed his smirk to spread over his face, "Well, come on gentlemen, let's see your hands!"

Finn looked like he was going to be sick, "This was _such _a bad idea… Mom is gonna kill me…"

"Always such a Momma's boy, Finn. Come on, live a little! Do you want to go home, or not?"

"Well, I've got nothing…" Finn sighed miserably, throwing his hand down in disgust.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at the man in front of him, trying not to look to closely at the pair of third class tickets on the table, the tickets that he so desperately wanted for him and his brother…

They may not have been kin by birth, but they were all the closer for it. They had come to Europe a little short of two years ago, leaving behind a happily married new set of parents as Finn's mother and Kurt's father _finally _tied the knot in a lovely ceremony in their homestate of Ohio.

The pair may not have found their fortune, but they sure as hell had lived their lives, every moment of everyday. Even Finn had fallen in love with the Bohemian lifestyle by the end of their stay in Paris, although that may have been no small part thanks to him meeting a rather forthright stage singer named Rachel… a whirlwind romance that would almost definitely have endured had it not been for that unfortunate incident with her father…

Now, though, now the brothers had been away from their homeland long enough… Seattle, Chicago, San Francisco… these were new cities to be explored… to be captured in charcoal and song…

"Nothing, Olaf? And you Sven?" Kurt hissed through his teeth as the last player placed his cards down, "Two pairs? Oh, Finn, I'm so sorry…"

Finn groaned, "I _knew_ it! Kurt, how could you let me-"

Kurt grinned, cutting over his brother, "Finn, I'm sorry, but you're not gonna see Rachel again for a little while – we're going home! Full house!" He threw his cards down as Finn sprang to his feet, yelling with joy.

"Oh my God, Kurt! We're going on the Titanic! We're goin' home!"

Kurt hugged Finn in jubilation as Olaf punched his drinking buddy, "Oh my God, can you imagine Dad's face? We're going back to America, Finn!"

"Nah mate!" The bartender yelled over the chaos, "_Titanic's_ going to America – in five minutes!"

"Oh crap…" Finn swore blankly.

"Well what are you waiting for, _move_ you dumb lug!" Kurt yelled with a laugh at Finn, scooping their winnings into his bag as he grabbed their tickets.

They ran out of the port-side tavern, Kurt weaving his way nimbly through the cheering crowds, safe in the knowledge that he could hear Finn's heavy steps on the cobbles, right on his heels. He leapt on the gangway, "No, no, we're passengers, look, we've got tickets!"

There was already a small gap between the door and the ramp, and the guard was in the way to prevent a jump as Kurt waved the tickets at him, "Have you been through the health inspection queue?"

Kurt pulled on his best smile, willing Finn to not open his stupid mouth when they were _this close_, "Of course we have! Do I _look_ like I have lice to you? We're American, and very clean!" Please don't scratch, Finn, please don't scratch…

"Alright, come on!" They both jumped aboard, and Finn grabbed Kurt's arm, grinning as he took the lead to tear through the halls, leading them both up on deck to wave goodbye to the shore.

"I can't believe it, Kurt, we're going home…"

Kurt grinned, his hair whipping across his face with the wind, "I know…"

* * *

"Oh, Blaine, I don't know why you insisted on bringing those silly scrawls along with you…" His mother sighed, looking over her shoulder at her son. Blaine didn't look up as he attempted to stuff the papers back into the satchel that had spilled open while unpacking the room.

Sebastian smirked, reaching forwards and forcibly pulling a wedge of paper from Blaine's hands, "Music? Don't tell me _you _wrote these, Blaine?"

Blaine blushed to the roots of his slicked back hair, and nodded, "They're just something I like to work on…"

"Don't mumble, Blaine dear, please. It's unseemly." Mrs Anderson sighed, "I'll see you both for dinner. I must make sure Jane has taken my jewellery down to the purser… And do make sure you are on time. I hear that _dreadful _Sylvester woman is on board. One of those new money types from her father's success in gold mining. I couldn't _bear_ to sit through a meal in her company…"

When the older woman had left, Sebastian rolled his eyes, throwing the scribbled score sheets at Blaine's feet, "If you must practice such womanly pastimes of writing _music_, then so be it, but try and at least get some head for numbers before we arrive in New York? You want my father to like you, don't you, little brother?"

Blaine's stomach twisted in knots. He hated it when Sebastian belittled him, and it was even worse when he used that term of endearment with such a mocking sneer. Sebastian was _not_ Blaine's older brother. He never would be, marriage or not. Blaine protested, "Cooper always encouraged my compositions…"

Sebastian snorted, "Yes, well _Cooper_ had a lot of bad ideas, now didn't he?" He laughed at his own 'joke' and slapped Blaine's shoulder vigorously before leaving him alone to gather his music, tears burning in his throat, swallowed before they could form.

* * *

A new dawn to the ocean brought much of the same, as far as Blaine was concerned, the wonder long leeched from his world by those around him. They were sitting for luncheon with some of the more prominent passengers, and he really didn't care. His fingers itched to open his pocket book and write down the chords that sang in his head, but instead he had to satisfy himself with tapping out a rhythm on its closed leather cover with his pen.

"Blaine." His mother's voice spoke primly, but still managed to convey annoyance, "You know how much your father doesn't like it what you bring that book to the table… It's not proper."

A hand stilled his own, taking his pen, and Blaine didn't even need to look to his left to know it was Sebastian, "Why don't I hold onto that for you, Blaine?"

A tall blonde woman opposite them let out what was to the untrained ear a pleasant laugh, but to those of high society could hear to be cold and biting, "Come now, Mr Smythe, surely boys should be encouraged to apply their minds?"

Sebastian just smiled at her, snakelike, "Well, my soon to be brother in law will not be a boy for much longer, will he, Miss Sylvester? I like to think I am guiding him in those last few steps he must take until manhood."

Blaine watched as the woman afforded him a glance, before turning her rather frosty gaze back to Sebastian, "Really, now? One might be mistaken to think _you_ were the one marrying him!" She laughed, as did many around the table as they followed her lead. Blaine noticed how his mother's smile had become even more fixed than usual, but couldn't help but smile softly as the sharp woman sent him a covert wink.

* * *

Kurt leant against the railings, breeze ruffling his hair as he guided charcoal across paper with long, delicate fingers. He had always loved drawing, ever since he had been small. One of his favourite things to do when he was younger had been to draw with his mother, and even after she had died, he had never been able to bring himself to stop. In Paris, he had drawn anything and everything, even made a pretty penny selling women's clothing sketches to some design houses, but had inevitably come across the roadblocks brought on by his station and gender.

As he smudged his finger across the dress of the little girl he was drawing, Kurt absently listening into Finn's conversation with a fellow third class passenger. "Ah, that's typical. First class dogs taken down here to take a shit…"

Kurt twisted around to take a look at the newcomer. He was tall, rather intimidating with a shaven head, casually leaning as he smoked a cigarette. Kurt smiled wryly, "It's their way of reminding us where we rank in the scheme of things."

The other man's eyes sparkled with mirth at Kurt's dry words, "Like we could forget?" He stepped forwards offering his hand, "Noah Puckerman. Friends call me Puck.

"Kurt Hummel." Kurt nodded, accepting the hand he was offered.

"Nice drawings, you sell them?"

Kurt was no longer listening. He was too preoccupied by the young man who had just stormed purposefully onto the first class promenade to stand at the rails. Kurt watched, enchanted, as the dark haired boy made to sweep a hand through his hair until he stopped halfway, as if remembering it was slicked back. He wore a typical lounge suit of the absurdly wealthy, and sure, he wore it well, but there was something _more_ there, something that Kurt couldn't quite place… Something behind those eyes.

He was beautiful…

Puck seemed to have noticed Kurt wasn't listening anymore, "No use on wishing, my friend. Angels are more likely to fly out of your ass than you gonna get up there with the high and mighty."

Finn, however, seemed to notice more precisely what had caught Kurt's eye. He hit his brother on the arm, giving him a pointed look. _Not here you idiot!_

It was true. It was one thing to look at another man _that way_ in the red light districts of Paris, but it was a whole other matter out here. Kurt averted his eyes with his most innocent look. Finn just grinned at him exasperatedly, long having accepted his brother's preference for men, and shook his head.

Kurt continued to watch out of the corner of his eye, as the young man was pulled off deck by a smarmy looking man in his mid-twenties. Tall, prim, and very adept at dulling the brief spark Kurt had caught in the beautiful stranger's eyes.

* * *

Blaine couldn't handle it anymore. One more false smile, one more grab to his elbow in an attempt to steer him to where _Sebastian_ though he should stand. He was under no illusions that becoming a husband would stop all of this. If anything, he would be more trapped, in a family that wasn't in, in a society he hated, with a woman he didn't, _could never_ love…

He ran through the top deck of the Titanic, unable to breathe, even for all the sea air whipping against his face, stinging his skin with its cold bite. He gasped for air as his hands clasped around the icy railing at the rear of the ship, his stomach folding against it, allowing him an unencumbered view out onto the inky expanse of water.

It would be so easy…

What other way out was there for him? He couldn't go on living like this!

In the back of his mind, he was almost certain that he could hear Cooper, begging him not to do it, begging him to find another way…

But Cooper was dead, had been for nearly eight years now, drowned in the lake of the family estate as he tried to save his _moronic _little brother…

Blaine had survived, Cooper hadn't.

Blaine let a sob rip through his lungs. He should have been the one to drown that day, not Cooper. Cooper was the eldest, the son destined to take over the family estates. Cooper wouldn't have screwed up. Cooper would have found himself a good wife, probably would have had kids by now, Cooper would have been happy, would have made their parents proud…

Cooper wasn't defective, Cooper didn't find _men_ attractive…

Blaine's stomach twisted with the guilt of even thinking it, of even thinking those dirty thoughts.

Everything would have been better if he had drowned that day…

Without real conscious thought, Blaine found that he had taken one step, and then two, and then he had stepped over until there was nothing between him and the darkness. He let himself lean out, his arms stretching taunt as they took more of his weight.

"Don't do it." A voice, soft, gentle and warm cut though the chilly April air.

Blaine started, but didn't lose his hold, panic seizing his chest, "Stay back! Don't come any closer!"

He twisted to see a young man, about his age, obviously slender even in his baggy worn clothes. His eyes were kind, as blue as the ocean at dawn. And his voice, his voice was beautiful, hypnotising, "Come on, just give me your hand, I'll pull you back over."

There was a surety in the stranger's movements that gave Blaine pause. It was laced with a genuine concern, as if he really did care if Blaine jumped or not.

"No! Stay where you are! I mean it…" He really didn't, the boy's presence was confusing everything, "I'll let go!"

The stranger approached cautiously, palms spread as he kept a distance, before looking into Blaine fear filled eyes, "No you won't."

Blaine's entire being sparked. All his life, people had been telling him what he would do, what he could, what he should, and now this person was too! "What do you mean, _'no I won't'? _Don't presume to tell me what I will or will not do! You _don't know me!"_

The slender man shrugged, his eyes clear and calculating, "Well, you would have done it already…"

Blaine's skin prickled, and he shifted his grip, snapping petulantly, "Well, you're distracting me. Just go away!"

"I can't. I'm involved now. If you go in, I'm gonna have to jump in there after you…" He said it plainly, already shucking off his jacket and starting on the laces of his boots.

Blaine blinked at the strange boy. What was wrong with this person? Why did he care what Blaine did or did not do? "D-don't be absurd…" Blaine mumbled. "You'll be killed…"

"I'm a good swimmer." There was no joke in the tone, no condescending snap to it. Just a kindness, and a cool logic.

"The fall alone would kill you…" Blaine refuted.

"It'll hurt sure, but it won't be a given. I'm more worried about the cold water than the fall." He shrugged.

Blaine blanched, suddenly back there in the lake, knives stabbing at his skin and lungs, weeds pulling his legs as stars danced over his eyes. Not knowing which way is up and which way is down, not being able to _think_…

"I'm really not looking forward to jumping in there after you…" The stranger murmured, brushing a few strands of wayward brown hair from his face, "But, like I said, I don't have a choice…I guess I'm hoping you'll come back over the rail, and get me off the hook here…"

He had drawn closer to Blaine in the time they had been talking, and their eyes met. Calm against desperate. "You're crazy…" Blaine croaked, unable to comprehend the person behind him.

A beautiful smile split onto the stranger's pale face, in a way that made something in Blaine's stomach twist pleasantly, despite the situation, "It's been said. But then, if you don't mind me saying so, sir, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship ready to jump…"

Blaine bit his lip, resolve long destroyed by the gentle words of the boy who now offered him his hand, "Come on, you don't want to do this. Take my hand, come on…" The voice was rhythmic and gentle, coaxing Blaine as he finally reached around and took the surprisingly soft hands of the young man.

He twisted on the rail, and the relief in the other's eyes was palpable. He let out a breath, his eyes level with Blaine's own as he smiled, "I'm Kurt Hummel."

"B-blaine Anders-son…" Blaine stuttered over his name, only now realising how cold he was, standing on the edge in only a dress shirt, and no jacket in sight.

Kurt smiled charmingly, "Unusual name; it's lovely." Blaine found himself blushing as Kurt secured a tighter grip on his hands, "Come on, let's get you back."

Blaine smiled shyly, and made to take another step up the railings. But his dress shoes weren't designed for grip-

"Blaine!"

Blaine was falling with Kurt's shout, and he couldn't help but yell in panic as he completely lost all footing on the ship. His arms snapped taunt and his shoulder socket wrenched as suddenly Kurt was holding onto all his weight, desperately trying to stop him from falling. "Kurt!"

Blaine didn't want to die. All thoughts had been soundly driven from him mind, probably as soon as this beautiful boy had unwittingly stepped into his life. His legs swung wildly, trying to find something to lever himself up with. "Blaine! Come on, pull yourself up!"

Blaine was terrified, and he could see that fear mirrored in Kurt's eyes. His fingers were frozen, and his brain wasn't thinking straight. He lost grip for a second time on the rails, "Kurt! Please don't let me fall!"

The grip on his arms strengthened, "Blaine, Blaine, look at me!" The command in Kurt's voice overrode Blaine's blind panic, and his eyes connected with the blue determined eyes of the man above him, "Blaine, I promise I won't let you fall. You need to trust me! Now, come on!"

Kurt heaved with all his strength, and Blaine found grip on the bottom-most rail. By sheer force of will and combined determination, Kurt hoisted Blaine up the outer rails and pulled him over, where they landed in a panting, shell shocked heap.

A stray giggle bubbled past Kurt's lips as Blaine's heart began to slow enough for him to start to smile.

But then there was a pounding of boots, and Kurt was bodily pulled off Blaine.

* * *

Blaine numbly allowed them to wrap him in a blanket and he was pretty sure someone handed him a brandy at some point. He couldn't stop shivering, although now it was much less about the cold.

Someone was yelling. Blaine blinked sluggishly. Sebastian?

"This is completely unacceptable! What made you think that a dirty thief like you could get away with attacking my brother in law?"

Blaine looked up. When had they put handcuffs around Kurt's wrists? "Sebastian…"

"What did you think you were doing?"

Oh no, Blaine knew that tone… He jumped to his feet, ignoring the sailor who tried to steady him, and wrenched Sebastian back before he could attack Kurt physically, "Sebastian! Stop it! He didn't do anything wrong! It was an accident! He rescued me!"

Sebastian stopped, staring blankly at Blaine, "He _rescued _you?"

Blaine nodded vigorously, exchanging a glance with a perplexed yet stoic Kurt, "I was leaning over the railings to get a better look at the ship's propellers, and I slipped… Mr Hummel heard me shout and helped me… I owe him my life."

Sebastian shook his head down at Blaine, muttering disgustedly, "Typical Blaine." He rounded on Kurt, "Is this true?"

Kurt seemed to collect himself, reading the desperate plea in Blaine's eyes, "Yes, yes that's what happened."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, "Let him go then." He turned to Blaine, "Come on, let's get you inside before you get into even more trouble."

The man who had given Blaine the brandy nudged Sebastian, "Surely a little something for the boy?"

Sebastian sighed, but nodded to his manservant, "Mr Lovejoy, I think a twenty should do it?"

Blaine watched in veiled amusement as Kurt's lip curled slightly at the offer of payment. And then his tongue was working without his brain's permission, "Don't be absurd, Sebastian. I told you, I owe him my life." He smiled at Kurt, "You must come to dinner with us tomorrow evening."

Sebastian laughed cruelly, "Why not! Will you accept, Mr Hummel? You can regale us all with the thrilling tale."

Kurt eyed up Sebastian, but couldn't help but cave to Blaine's open smile, "Sure, count me in."

Sebastian smirked, "Very well then." He turned away, murmuring to the older man as he guided Blaine away, "This should be interesting."

Kurt scowled at the disgusting rich boy's back. If it wasn't for Blaine, there was no way he would have agreed. But he couldn't help it; there was just something about that boy that had snagged him, and he wasn't going to let go now.

To Be Continued...

Author Notes: What did you think? I'll try and write the next chapter asap!


	2. Chapter 2

Author Notes: I have no idea how I'm updating so fast! This has to be a new record for me! Thank you to all who have read my story so far!

Chapter Two

" Okay, Finn, you're my boy, but I swear if you don't stop mooning over your French sweetheart, I'mma gonna punch ya."

Kurt smirked at Puck's easy threat, not bothering to look up from his drawings as they sat together in the third class section of deck, "Good luck with that. I've been trying to knock some sense into him for years…"

"Well, if _your_ powers of persuasion are rendered inert, Mr Hummel, then your friend must truly be a lost cause…"

Kurt's head snapped up at the unexpected voice, playful yet clearly nervous. Puck took one look at the smartly dressed newcomer and started laughing his head off, clapping a concerned looking Finn on the shoulder as he marvelled at the rich boy's sudden appearance. Kurt's face drew into an easy smile, "Brother."

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed, "I'm sorry?"

"The lovestruck fool is my brother. Puck is just your everyday cretin; pretend he's not here."

"Hey!"

Kurt ignored him, "Can I help you, Mr Anderson?"

Blaine seemed to collect himself from the odd scene, "I, er, yes. I was wandering if you would walk with me up on top deck?"

Now Finn _really_ looked worried, but Puck just seemed to find the whole incident the highlight of his trip, "Wow, what d'ya do, Hummel? Deflower his sister?"

Blaine shot the much taller man a disdainful look, "I don't have a sister. Do you ever tire of being so… crass?"

Puck shrugged, and replied plainly, "No, can't say that I do."

Kurt shook his head, folding his sketchbook under his arm and indicated for Blaine to lead the way.

They got a few looks, but Kurt was hardly one of the worst dressed passengers in steerage, and Blaine was clearly a young man of high standing, so for the most part, they were ignored. The pair chatted easily as they walked, about everything and anything, and yet, at the same time, nothing at all – at least where Blaine personally was concerned.

Nevertheless, Kurt allowed it. He enjoyed the conversation with this reserved boy. There was a joyful spark to him that shone when he forget that he was supposed to be rich and hold appearances. It was a window to a kind, opinionated person; someone who Kurt was eager to get to know more intimately.

Well… perhaps considering the boy's station, that would be a resoundingly bad idea, but Kurt couldn't deny how attractive he was. Still, he wasn't sure if he was willing to take the leap just yet. Many parts of Blaine were a mystery, and he had no idea how he would react. Kurt would rather not spend the rest of the voyage locked up…

He decided to swing the conversation on to why he was invading first class space so obviously, "So, Blaine, however interesting a topic my family is, I can't help but think that's not why you braved the ruffians of third class to ask me up here."

Blaine's posture immediately became unsure, but he was clearly determined to say his piece. "Well, Mr Hummel-"

"Kurt," he interjected. He hated how formal Blaine seemed to be required to be all the time; it didn't suit him.

"Kurt." Blaine agreed. "I just, I wanted to thank you for what you did last night… not just for pulling me back and saving me from making one of my worst decisions to date, but also for your discretion. For not telling them why…"

Kurt smiled gently as Blaine carefully chose his words, "You're welcome."

And yet, his passive reply seemed to stir even more discomfort in Blaine, as he shook his head, avoiding eye contact as he gestured hopelessly, "I know what you must be thinking. Poor little rich boy," Kurt was surprised to hear the sheer self hating venom that Blaine managed to lace into his tone, "What does _he _know about misery?"

Kurt frowned softly, immediately refuting Blaine's words, "No." Blaine looked up at him with disbelief, and… hope? "No. All I can wonder is what could have happened to this boy to make him think that he has no way out."

Blaine just shrugged, his movements jittery, before his whole body seemed to still, and slump dejectedly. He sighed, looking out onto the ocean, replying quietly, "Have you ever felt like your life is not your own? Like you're just moving through it, being directed, pushed and guided. Working _so hard_ just to get everything right, just so you can do exactly what everyone else wants of you…"

Kurt leant his elbows on the railings, next to Blaine, "I can't say that I have. Ever since my mother died… I promised myself, I wouldn't waste a moment. I would go where life takes me, live it to the full, where ever my path leads." He said the words without malice or gloating. Just the same, peaceful and calm tone that had so hypnotised Blaine the night before.

"It's all I've ever known…" He paused, "I'm to be married you know, when I arrive in America. The entirety of the Philadelphia elite is going to turn up to watch me wed the younger sister of that man I was with last night – Sebastian Smythe. I didn't even propose to her, but she's going to be my wife, and sometimes I can't get that idea out of my head and I just can't _breathe-"_

"Do you love her?" Kurt cut across with a sad smile, expecting one of two typical replies; a listless shrug or a display of false male bravado.

Instead, he was shocked to be faced with fiery hazel eyes and a vibrant anger, "What kind of a question is _that?_"

Kurt blinked, but kept his voice steady and determined, "A simple one. Do you love her?"

"I don't have to answer that!"

Kurt ploughed on, "So, maybe you love another girl then? One you've left behind in London, perhaps?"

If it were possible, Blaine got even more twitchy with misplaced anger, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, "I don't, I couldn't… Stop talking to me!"

Blaine started to storm away, and Kurt was, to be honest, more than a little bit confused. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he jogged to catch up, "Methinks the lady doth protest too much!"

And then Kurt found himself slammed against the bulkhead, Blaine's hands fisted in his shirt as the shorter boy glared up at him in anger and…fear? "Don't call me that!"

Kurt stared at Blaine for a moment, recognising an all too familiar look in the other boy's eyes, "Okay. I'm sorry."

Blaine kept on as if he hadn't heard, but still released Kurt nonetheless, "Who do you think you are, to judge my life, anyway? You, with your carefree attitude and silly smirk, carrying that foolish thing around with you all the time! What is that anyway?" Kurt allowed Blaine to dart forwards and take his sketchbook, all the more certain of his suspicions, and even if he wasn't, he knew the butterflies in his stomach all too well.

"My drawings." Kurt said needlessly, watching fondly as Blaine's momentary jittery anger skittered away on the breeze as the sketches took hold of him and he sat down.

"These are… these are actually really good Kurt…"

"I just draw what I see." Kurt smiled, sitting down next to Blaine, their shoulders brushing.

Blaine laughed softly as he thumbed through a few exquisitely rendered charcoals of naked women, "Clearly." But then he turned the page onto the life drawings of the more masculine variety, and wow, Blaine could not have blushed harder, "I… you… you drew all these from life?"

"In Paris, you can find anyone to pose for you."

By now, Blaine had quite clearly noted the rather overweighting towards drawings of men than drawings of women in Kurt's book. "You've… you've really gone into detail…"

Kurt took pity on him, "I'm sorry if they make you uncomfortable-" He reached forward to take the book back. He knew how jarring it could be, to be confronted with such drawings. For Kurt, there was a clear separation. He knew these men; they were friends, excellent conversation partners, nothing more. He knew their hopes and dreams, and he caught that on his paper. Some were rentboys, some were hard up artists like himself. None of them were lovers.

Blaine stilled his hand, his voice ever so soft, and quite shaky, but sure all the same. "They don't. Make me uncomfortable, that is." Blaine's hand lingered for slightly longer than strictly necessary. "This really is beautiful work, Kurt. It's like you've drawn their souls. You actually see people, not just what they show the world."

Kurt debated for a second whether to say it, but he was nothing if not confident, "I see you."

Blaine's head snapped up, his eyes wide and searching, before he allowed a smile to play on his lips, "Really? And what do you see?"

"You wouldn't have jumped." Kurt could say it, not only because he believed in Blaine's strength of character, but also because he needed to believe that Blaine wouldn't have robbed the world of his presence.

Kurt waited with baited breath for Blaine to respond, and relaxed when Blaine just smiled, "Tell me more about Paris?"

Kurt just grinned in return, happy to see Blaine's momentary panicked anger disappear, and obliged.

* * *

They talked all afternoon, the easy ebb and flow of conversation as sure as the waves Titanic cut through below. "Come on." Kurt refuted, "A public boarding school boy like you? I will not believe that you left with a blank sheet."

Blaine shrugged, "I just kept my head down. I did what they wanted and got through it." He blushed, "I'm not exactly the biggest guy. It was better just to stay unnoticed."

Kurt looked at him sadly, "I don't think you should let yourself be swallowed by the background, Blaine. Isn't there anything that you would love to do? Come on, any dream. You _must_ have dreams!"

"Of course I have dreams! I want to go to Egypt and see the pyramids! I want to write a sell out show for Broadway! I want to sing my lungs out into the Grand Canyon just to fail to fill it!" Blaine's whole being seemed to glow with life and energy as he spilled his wildest dreams to Kurt, a brilliant smile on his face even though he knew none of it would come true.

Kurt stared at the other boy in wonderment. How could anyone want to snuff out such beautiful happiness from someone like Blaine? He grinned mischievously, "Well, I can't give you the Grand Canyon, but I'd say the Atlantic's a pretty big expanse, wouldn't you?"

"Kurt, what are you-" Blaine began warily.

"Come on!" Kurt pulled at Blaine's arm, "If there's one thing Paris, or more specifically, a certain Parisian named Rachel taught me, it's that you should sing at _every_ opportunity!"

"You're insane! Kurt! Stop!" Blaine found his protests dying on his lips, the wild joy in the other boy's eyes infecting him deep in his chest.

Kurt grinned, and hummed a few bars of a well known sailing song, before picking up the words, singing them clear out on the waves with absolutely no intent on holding back. Blaine was mesmerised. Kurt's voice was… heart stopping. High, clear and lilting; absolutely _perfect_. Oh, what Blaine would give to write music for a voice like Kurt's…

And then Kurt was elbowing him, pointedly grinning, "Come on, Blaine!"

Nervously – because _God_ people were probably staring! – Blaine joined in, his lower voice blending softly with Kurt's. Kurt rolled his eyes, "You can do better than that, Blaine, I though you wanted to fill the _Grand Canyon? _You can't even fill Titanic!"

Something deep down inside Blaine snapped at Kurt's words. Something that had been held fast since he was so very small. Something that he had buried since perhaps even before Cooper died, under a mountain of expectations and properness. So Blaine sang, giggling as he did so, blending his voice with Kurt's perfection.

Until out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of something familiar, and his voice died in his throat. His only saving grace at that moment was that his mother was with some of her friends, and that Sebastian was nowhere to be seen, "Mother!" Kurt turned at Blaine's change in demeanour, unable to ignore the pointed way in which the smaller boy put distance between them, "Mother, this is Mr Kurt Hummel."

Kurt watched as this new woman looked him over like something her overly priced dog might have brought in from the park, "What a charming song."

Kurt raised an eyebrow coolly, refusing to be intimidated by this ice queen of a woman. This is why he hated rich people, "It is, isn't it?"

The tallest woman of the pack, even having a few inches on Kurt in her height, looked upon the scene with a sparkle in her eyes that caught Kurt's attention, "I hear you're the one to thank for keeping young Blaine here from getting too closely acquainted with Titanic's engineering?"

Kurt grinned at her wry tone as Blaine ducked his head, "Yes Ma'am."

A fanfare of trumpets rang out over the deck, and Kurt watched as the blonde lady scoffed, "Honestly. I know it can seem like it, but we're going to dinner, not war!"

Kurt failed to hide his smirk at the woman's words as the other ladies refrained from reacting. Blaine looked more and more uncomfortable by the minute, "Shall I escort you back to your cabin, Mother?" He held out his arm, sending Kurt one last mischievous smile, "See you at dinner, Kurt."

Kurt nodded, only half covering how he was quite obviously staring at Blaine's ass as he walked away. The way Kurt saw it, no one _expected_ him to be taking in the view, so to speak. "Porcelain? Hey, _Porcelain!" _Kurt jolted, realisingthat the blonde woman had stayed behind, supporting a smile that was far too _knowing_ for Kurt's taste. And why the hell was she calling him _that? _"You have no idea what you're letting yourself in for, do you?"

Kurt just grinned, "Not really!"

"Well, you're about to go into the snake pit, and not everyone is as well prepared for such a trial as one Susan Sylvester." Kurt stared at her, and had to assume that was her name, because she kept going regardless, "What are you planning to _wear?_"

Kurt gestured to the clothes he wore, smartly quipping, "My wardrobe got stuck at customs."

"I thought it did." Miss Sylvester smirked. "Well, come on, what are you waiting for? Follow, boy, follow!"

Kurt stared after the bizarre woman, and rushed to obey.

* * *

Blaine had no idea why he was so jittery. It was just _dinner_ for goodness sake! It would be the same boring, run of the mill, _brain numbing_ dinner as usual!

Except it wouldn't. Because _Kurt _would be there.

Blaine had been forced to dismiss his manservant ten minutes ago, he had been so nervous. He couldn't stand still and let the man attempt to help dress him. Nothing was right, and it _had _to be _perfect._ Blaine had to be perfect.

Finally, after adjusting his bowtie one last time, Blaine took a deep, steadying breath and left his cabin, forcing himself to take calm, confident steps, and no, his hands were _not_ shaking, thank you very much!

For the love of God, Blaine! Get a hold of yourself!

He kept berating his own thoughts the whole way to dinner. Until, that is, he reached the top of the grand staircase, and all semblance of intelligence went right out of the window. It was all Blaine could do but keep himself from gaping openly.

Because Kurt looked _incredible_. If Blaine hadn't been able to see those captivating eyes and that gorgeous smile, he might never have been able to equate this man before him with his saviour from last night. Kurt looked like he had been born to high society, his lithe form perfectly accentuated by the tailored white tie suit he now stood in, holding perfect posture as he smiled up at Blaine. His hair was styled away from his face, which only served to further define his high cheekbones and aristocratic features.

Blaine couldn't look away.

"You're staring." Kurt murmured with a soft smile as Blaine finally descended the staircase to meet him.

Blaine somehow recovered from the shock, and blushed, "Sorry."

"Don't apologise. I'm flattered you recognise me enough to notice. Your brother in law certainly didn't."

Blaine frowned, because how _couldn't_ he have noticed Kurt? "Well, let's have some fun then!" Blaine grinned, dragging Kurt by the elbow to butt in to what was no doubt an important conversation with some Duke or other, "Sebastian, you remember Mr Hummel from last night?"

Sebastian turned, and Blaine watched as a silent battle of wills played out between the two men before him in a second, neither willing to give out, both having perfected the optimum level of cool distain. Finally, Sebastian laughed, recovering, "It's remarkable. You could nearly pass as one of us!"

Kurt smirked coldly, "Nearly." The meaning behind his reply rang clear to Blaine – as if he would ever _want_ to be in the same class as Sebastian.

Sebastian was already guiding Blaine's mother away. Blaine shook his head, "I'm sorry about him."

"Well, I didn't help dress young Porcelain here so _Smythe _could take notice of him, now did I?" Blaine jolted in surprise as Miss Sylvester inserted herself easily between the two boys, linking her arms in theirs, "Escort a lady to dinner?"

Kurt was barely ruffled by her appearance, "Of course."

Blaine was just really confused. He bent backwards slightly to catch Kurt's eye behind Miss Sylvester's back, mouthing incredulously with a grin, _'Porcelain?'_

Kurt just smiled mysteriously.

* * *

They hadn't even made it to the first course, and already Kurt was marvelling at how Blaine had even come into existence with a mother like he had! How did someone so joyful and kind come from someone as cold as this woman? Kurt could barely equate her with his stepmother, let alone his memories of his own mother. Miss Sylvester sat to his right, making sure he didn't make any dreadful etiquette faux pas, in her own impressively covert way.

Kurt fielded everything Mrs Anderson and Sebastian threw his way with a relaxed detachment, not allowing anything to faze him. After all, he wasn't sitting here to please anyone but Blaine. Speaking of Blaine, Kurt had to smile as he watched him kindly draw the quiet older man, Mr Andrews, into conversation with a natural smile and probably the only example of genuine interest this dining room would see all evening.

"But what could be greater than family?" Sebastian's sharp voice cut through Kurt's thoughts, and he just knew he wasn't going to like where this was going to go, "Why, our society has been _built_ on the joining of families, of family business and such like!"

"Indeed." Mrs Anderson agreed, "What about you, Mr Hummel? Are you following in your father's trade?"

Kurt saw Blaine wince out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't let himself falter, "No. My father is a firm believer in allowing me and my brother to follow our dreams. He would never trap us in a future where we would be miserable. I enjoy mechanics, but it isn't my passion. He understood that. My family know all too well how short life can be, so we live everyday to the full, because what other way is there to live? Life is a gift; you should make every moment count, or what's the point?"

"Well said, Kurt." Miss Sylvester nodded decisively, and Kurt had to wonder if some of the men weren't a little intimidated by her, as murmurs of agreement echoed round the table.

"To making it count." Blaine raised his glass in a toast, and Kurt's smile only widened.

* * *

The ridiculously long dinner finally drew to a close, and one of the older men stood, effectively dismissing the table as the men began to stand. Kurt watched Blaine with interest. For one of the few times that evening, Blaine's eyes were not on him, but rather on Sebastian. Sue leant over, "Now's the time for all the men to retreat into clouds of smoke and drink brandy, to congratulate each other on being masters of the universe."

Kurt had to hold back what would have been a very unseemly snort of laughter. He rose to his feet as well, only to frown as Blaine remained seated. All was revealed a moment later, when Mr Andrews, the ship architect, asked Blaine, "Will you not be joining us, Blaine?"

Blaine opened his mouth, but Sebastian cut across him, "Blaine doesn't do well in talk of business or politics, do you Blaine? Nor does he smoke. My little brother will only be confused and bored. You surely noticed his absence last night?"

Mr Andrews very much looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself at the blank look on Blaine's face. Kurt fumed inside at the disgusting smirky rat's uncanny ability to belittle Blaine in only three sentences. The 'men' departed swiftly, leaving Blaine and Kurt behind. Mrs Anderson gave both a pointed look; clearly telling Blaine to dismiss Kurt, and for Kurt to _leave now and don't you dare come back!_

Blaine rose to his feet, "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry you have to go."

"Well, we can't over saturate them with my glamorous presence, can we?" Kurt sighed dramatically, taking Blaine's hand to shake it firmly, "Thank you for inviting me. Goodnight Blaine."

Blaine watched miserably as Kurt disappeared, until a second later, he registered a piece of paper, left behind in his palm.

In an elegant script that only an artist's hand could form, was written two simple sentences that filled Blaine will a thrill:

_Make it count_

_Meet me at the clock!_

The Sylvester woman was looking at him again, a rather unsettling gleam in her eye as she suddenly stood and requested loudly, "Blaine, would you be a dear and escort me back to my cabin? I'm feeling rather tired."

"Oh! Of course!" He rushed to stand, turning briefly to his mother to bid her a good night. She barely acknowledged him.

He offered the taller woman his arm, which she took obligingly. They walked in silence until the grand foyer. "Well?" Blaine looked up at the bored tone, an exasperated look on the woman's face, "Do you really think a woman like me gets tired? Go on! Get up there, and have some fun for once in your life!" She huffed and stalked away, leaving Blaine staring up the plush staircase in front of him.

He took each step carefully, anticipation and nerves building in him with each inclement. As the little clock began to chime, Kurt turned, framed perfectly in the golden surroundings, a smug smile on his face for having succeeded in getting Blaine to follow him.

"So, you want to go to a _real_ party?"

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Hope you liked the deviations! (Let's face it, Kurt would not be one to spit!). I'm going to try and write ch3 tomorrow and post! Until next time… xxx


	3. Chapter 3

Author Notes: Me again! I can't believe I'm keeping up this writing speed. Seriously, I am not one of those people normally… :P Hope you're not sick of me yet!

Chapter Three

Blaine sat nervously on the sidelines, a tentative smile playing on his lips as he drank in his surroundings. The music was loud, the _people_ were even louder, but the real, honest joy was something else entirely… There was dancing, singing, laughing, drinking – all mixed up in a cacophony of colour and life, clashing and colliding in sprays of brilliance and pockets of light.

And Kurt glowed all the brighter for it. Up in Blaine's world, Kurt had handled himself perfectly, with a cool aloofness and confident demeanour, as if he had been born to it. But down here… down here, he was radiant. Kurt's high laugh carried easily over the raucous crowd, helping to put Blaine slightly more at ease.

He couldn't help but feel like everyone was staring at him, though…

The music dulled to a point, and the dancers broke. Kurt bowed elegantly to the little girl he had been twirling expertly across the boards, and practically skipped over to where Blaine was sitting. Blaine watched in growing terror and awe (mostly terror) as Kurt bent slightly at the waist, and offered Blaine his hand, his face aglow with a cheeky smile, "Well? You can't sit there all night! Will you dance with me or not?"

Blaine just shook his head dumbly, "You _cannot_ be serious. Kurt… Kurt, no!" Blaine protested, even as Kurt was dragging him to his feet with a firm grip, pulling him up.

Blaine's heart pounded in his chest as the drums began to beat once more, the vibrations tearing through him as the reality of what Kurt was making him do seized his mind. But then Kurt's arms stubbornly pulled him closer, and they slotted into the press of people, "You can't dance standing half a mile away from me!"

"I can't dance with you! I…I don't know the steps!"

Kurt laughed sweetly, seeing right through Blaine's protests, "No one will care, Blaine! Besides, neither do I – just go with it!"

And then Blaine was spinning, being pulled at breath-stealing pace by the thrumming music and Kurt's guiding hands. As Blaine began to let the music wash over him, he started to relax. The steps became easier, and he realised just how much people weren't staring at them. At least, not in _that way_. Because why would they? They were just two young men, dancing to a jig amidst a crowd of people.

Just two friends. Of course.

Kurt's hair caught in the cabin lights, shining with flecks of gold, while his ocean eyes never left Blaine's face once.

Just friends.

They span, they danced, they caught the attention in all the right ways of the people around them; light footed and young. Blaine couldn't comprehend just how graceful Kurt was on his feet. He was stunning to watch.

Blaine stumbled to the side as the music gave pause, narrowly avoiding the massive crushing feet of Kurt's rather less co-ordinated brother. He snagged a drink from the table, and drank it from nearly full, pausing only when he realised how Kurt and Finn were staring at him incredulously. "What?" Blaine smirked playfully, "A first class boy can't down a pint?"

Kurt shook his head, looping his arm around Blaine, "Oooh, no. I have no doubts in your ability to drink. It's the consequences I'm thinking of…"

Finn grimaced, "I told you this would end badly, Kurt."

Blaine wasn't really sure what Finn was talking about, so he simply ignored the absurdly tall man.

Three more pints and two victorious arm wrestles later against the shocked Puck, and Blaine could categorically say, as he grasped Kurt's hand and swept him into yet another dance, that it was the best night of his life.

* * *

Blaine sat out on the private promenade of his family's suites, humming a tune absently as he made small notations in his pocket book.

A hand slammed against the wall an inch from his ear, and Blaine's head span, still rather delicate from slightly too much alcohol. "Oops, I'm sorry, Blaine. Did I startle you? Or perhaps you are still feeling the effects of your frivolities with the unwashed masses last night?" Sebastian loomed over Blaine, looking completely unremorseful.

Blaine squirmed out of his chair, stumbling slightly as he got to his feet, "What I do with my evenings is none of your concern. What did you do, have me followed?"

Sebastian shook his head, smiling coldly at the younger man, "Oh, Blaine. When will you get it through that pretty little head of yours? _Everything _you do is my concern. I'm here to make sure you toe the line, little brother." In a flash, Sebastian had darted forwards, using his considerable height advantage to smash Blaine into the table, his hands fisted tightly at his collar, "While you are on this ship, you _will_ obey and respect me, is that clear? You will play your part, or I will make you."

Blaine's heart beat wildly in his chest as Sebastian's words chilled him to the core. He couldn't move, and not just because Sebastian held him down. He was frozen. There was something in Sebastian's eyes that truly scared him.

Sebastian took Blaine's lack of response as an agreement, and nodded, pulling himself up and brushing himself off casually as if nothing had happened, "Good. I expect to see you at dinner."

Blaine's legs felt like jelly, and his stomach felt sick, not helped any from the headache he had awoken with. He slid to the floor, dazed. Unsure of how long he sat there, it was the sharp tap of heels on wood that drew Blaine's attention. He watched with dull eyes as his mother walked up to him and hitched her skirts up, bending to pick up the tiny bound book from the deck where it had fallen, a few feet away from Blaine.

She stood, placing the little book down on the table with a pointed _snap_ of leather on wood. "You need to stop this, Blaine. You are not a child anymore."

"You say that as if I am unaware, Mother." Blaine replied listlessly.

He listened as she sighed in frustration, sitting down on the chair next to him, her skirts brushing Blaine's knee. Her voice dropped, barely audible over the hum of the engines and rush of the waves, "Have you any comprehension of what you are risking, behaving as you are? What kind of shame it would bring down upon your family, were people to even start _thinking _that you..?"

Blaine flinched at her words and self-serving tone, "I will do my duty, Mother, don't you worry about that."

"See that you do, Blaine. And maybe then I might be able to overlook some of your numerous sins." She rose, twisting a finger for a moment on the cover of the little pocketbook, as if she intended to take it with her, but then thought better of it. "You will thank me one day. You will see that I know what is best for you. And you will do me this one courtesy, and not see that boy again. "

Blaine just nodded, his brief spark of life from the previous night already snuffed out.

* * *

Kurt jiggled his foot nervously, waiting for his moment as he stood against a lifeboat in a poor disguise. He had been trying to see Blaine all day without success, unable to get the vibrant man out of his mind. Seeing his chance, he darted forward, snatching Blaine by the elbow and hauling him into the deserted ship gymnasium. He felt Blaine's breath quicken against him, "Kurt! What are you _doing?"_

Kurt just shrugged helplessly, "I had to see you… I _needed _to talk to you." Kurt felt his words stick in his throat, because, God, he was in too deep now, and what if he had been completely mistaken? What if the idea of thinking of Kurt as anything other than a friend hadn't even crossed his mind?

Blaine bit his lip, his amber eyes searching Kurt's unwavering gaze, "We can't do this, Kurt… We can't, and please don't ask me to…"

"Why?" Kurt asked, grasping Blaine's arms.

"Because it's wrong!" Blaine snapped back, "I'm engaged!"

"Now say it like you mean it." Kurt refuted.

Blaine let his head fall, breaking eye contact, because he couldn't do what Kurt asked of him. Instead, he murmured brokenly, "Please Kurt. Let me go."

Kurt's grip only grew stronger, "No. You jump, I jump, remember?" Blaine flinched at the reminder of the night they met, "I can't just walk away from you, Blaine. Not knowing I'd regret it for the rest of my life. Not knowing what it'll do to you if I let you go – if I just walk away and give you back to your family. You're kind Blaine, and full of a gentleness that will only become twisted and bitter as you grow old to find yourself trapped in a life you weren't born to lead, in a marriage that suffocates you, that forces you to live a lie. That's not who you are, Blaine."

"Kurt…"

"I'm not an idiot!" Kurt cut across him, determined to say his piece, "I know how the world works, and I know what it is to ask you to embrace a life that society says is wrong. But all I see now is a beautiful man who was born into a life he doesn't want to lead. They've got you trapped, Blaine."

Blaine's eyes darted rapidly as they took in every detail of Kurt's resolute expression, until he gently removed Kurt's hands from him, "I don't need you to save me, Kurt."

Kurt just shrugged, "What if I need you to save me?"

Blaine's movements stuttered, but at the last moment broke, as he pulled away, his voice cracking, "I have to go. Don't find me again."

In a blink, Kurt was standing along, a lead weight settling low in his chest.

* * *

Blaine felt like he was swimming through oil, drowning as the oppressive atmosphere tried to pull him under. Inane conversation and false smiles surrounded him, bombarding the blank façade he tried to maintain. Everything just seemed so infected, so fake. A poisonous tableau of what his life has amounted to, and what his life was to be until the day he died.

"Boys, calm yourselves! Honestly, Jonathan, set an example for your brother!"

"Yes, nanny, sorry nanny." The taller of the two boys replied contritely, capturing his much smaller brother around the waist to stop him from shooting off.

"Straighten your ties. You know how much it upsets your mother to see you like that." The nanny huffed exasperatedly, shaking her head as she turned away.

As soon as her back was turned, Blaine watched with a pain in his chest as the older of the two straightened the little one's tie gently, before promptly making a mess of his own, pulling a silly face that set the younger boy into a fit of giggles.

And Blaine knew that he couldn't do it. He couldn't do what they wanted, because the only person whose opinion he had ever truly cared about was gone, and Blaine knew that Cooper would hate the idea of a miserable life.

He had to find Kurt.

* * *

"I changed my mind."

Kurt jerked out of his thoughts, turning away from the ship's prow to look at the nervous young man standing a little way away, twisting his hands in front of him. A grin that Kurt could not control broke onto his face, and he had to take a moment to marvel at how this boy was really standing on front of him; tailored suit, slicked black hair and a shy smile.

"I'm sorry about earlier, I just-"

Kurt cut Blaine off with a finger to his own lips, effectively cutting off the panicked rambles before Blaine could get on a roll. Instead, he requested, "Take my hand." For a moment it looked like Blaine would protest, but then the tension seemed to bleed away as they stood, the only lone souls on the prowdeck, bathed in the setting sun. And as Blaine finally took that last leapt of faith and placed his hand in Kurt's, the world truly became just them, "Now, close your eyes."

It was a testament to Blaine's trusting and open nature that he did exactly as Kurt asked, letting the taller of the pair lead him forward. He didn't even frown when Kurt instructed him to take a step up onto the first rung, guiding his body into the position that it clearly needed to be in. Eyes still closed, Blaine couldn't stop himself from murmuring, "We'll cause quite the stir if we're seen…"

"Nonsense." Kurt breathed, "We're just two silhouettes against the sky to them. Two figures enjoying the view. Do you trust me?"

"I trust you." Blaine's reply was so sure, it blew Kurt away.

He made sure Blaine was steady, resting a hand gently on his waist, before whispering, "Open your eyes."

Kurt knew the precise moment when Blaine obeyed, because the shiver and stolen breath that ran through the body against him were unmistakable. "Kurt…" Blaine's voice was filled with awe and unbridled joy, "We're flying…"

Kurt just smiled, entwining his fingers about Blaine's own, resting his chin on the other boy's shoulder, humming a soft tune as the pair of them watched the splashes of reds and golds spray the sky with colour, staining the sea with a stunning shimmering fire, broken only by the first few pinpricks of white as stars began to peek out in veins of indigo.

And then Blaine twisted in his arms, an intense look in his eyes as he studied Kurt's face, "There you are." He breathed the words with a quiet wonder that made Kurt's brow twitch in question, "I've been looking for you forever…"

Blaine's whisper punched at Kurt's chest, and he was barely given a second's pause before Blaine had closed the last few inches, capturing Kurt's lips in a soul-stealing kiss that only the stars were witness.

It was their first sunset together, wrapped up in a joy that could be neither described nor measured.

It was also Titanic's last.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: A short one today, but only because I really needed to pause it here. A warning for next chapter – it is very likely I will boost the rating up to M, as the boys will be doing a little more than PG kissing…


	4. Chapter 4

Author Notes: Thank you for keeping going with me! It means a lot that people read and like my story! Word of warning for this chapter – the rating has been upped to M to cover _those_ scenes – you know the ones I mean ;) Enjoy!

Chapter Four

Kurt let out a low whistle as Blaine opened the door to his suite. "You got the worse deal; the room I share with Finn's feet and two other unwashed men is way better than this…"

Blaine grinned, "Oh, well I'm sorry if I can't offer you the conditions you are used to! Does this mean you no longer want to draw me?"

Kurt shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder fondly, "You're not getting out of it that easily." Something caught his eye; messy scrawls all over loose sheaves of paper, lying on the mahogany writing desk in the corner. He picked them up, only for them to reveal themselves as musical scores, "Blaine… are these yours?"

"Oh, you don't need to see those!" Blaine rushed forwards, clearly embarrassed, and tried to take the papers out of Kurt's hands, only for the taller boy to spin out of reach with a laugh, "Come on, Kurt…"

But Kurt wasn't listening to his protests. He shuffled through some of the pieces in wonder, "Blaine, there are some full orchestral scores here!"

"It's nothing… They don't mean anything…"

Kurt regarded him sharply at his tone, "Sebastian tell you that?"

"He doesn't think it's a very masculine or gentlemanly pastime." Blaine shrugged, "And my future fiancée has no interest in the arts, if her letters to me are to be believed, so I guess I've just become accustomed to pushing it all aside."

Kurt shook his head sadly, looking lovingly down at Blaine's soft features, before capturing a swift kiss, "Well, I think they're marvellous. And I think _you_ are incredible."

Blaine smiled into the kiss, his eyes aglow with a newfound emotion that he was yet to fully understand. Words tumbled from his mouth with renewed resolve, "I want you to draw me like one of your French models."

Kurt smiled, "I can do that."

Blaine bit his lip, eyes casting downwards for a brief moment before he recaptured Kurt's gaze, "No. I mean, I want you to draw _me_… as in, _only _me… No mask or façade. Just me."

Kurt's breath stuttered in his chest as he understood Blaine's full meaning. He swallowed thickly, "Okay."

* * *

Kurt had to occupy himself while Blaine was getting 'ready', so to speak. He went through the motions of setting up the couch, of readying his pencils.

Was it hot in here, or was that just him?

The door from the other room clicked open, and Kurt looked up to see Blaine standing there in the doorway, clad in a simple silk robe. He smiled coyly at Kurt's rather flushed expression, any and all nerves clearly dissipated as he threw himself into what he knew he wanted. There were no more doubts. No more _wrong, sick, sin._

He was taking control of his life.

Blaine padded softly into the warm glow of the lights, and Kurt watched as his chest fluttered slightly with a steadying breath, before Blaine let the robe slip off his shoulders, to pool at his feet with barely a whisper.

Kurt's breath was stolen. Blaine couldn't _be_ more perfect, standing there, bare and exposed both in body and soul. The air was charged. If Blaine was shy, then he didn't let it show in his movements. Instead, he simply looked at Kurt with an utter trust shining in his eyes. "Where… where do you want me?" His voice broke through the heavy silence, still barely a murmur, but so, so loud.

"If you could just lie down on the bed… the couch, I mean." Kurt replied, slightly flustered, watching as Blaine's muscles tensed and relaxed in a dance as he moved to obey, stretching languidly out across the length of the sofa.

Kurt managed to get some control of his crashing thoughts and feelings, and cleared his throat, pulling a more professional look onto his face. He put his sketchbook to the side for one moment, rising gracefully to his feet. He looked about the room for a brief moment before he saw what he was looking for. Selecting the one he wanted, he approached Blaine where he lay, looking up through his lashes, watching Kurt's every move.

"May I?" Kurt requested softly as he knelt, barely a hair's breadth from Blaine.

Blaine nodded with a stuttering heavy breath, his chest hitching visibly as Kurt's nimble long fingers reached up to rest a simple black bowtie, undone, around Blaine's neck. He took a moment, arranging the loose tails artfully so that it hung open, his fingertips ghosting across Blaine's clavicle as he did so, conjuring a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Satisfied with the tie, he turned his attention to Blaine's arms, guiding his top arm to rest down his side, his hand falling loosing, brushing the lower jut of his hip ever so slightly. With his other arm, Kurt left it where it was, curled up on the cushion, hand flexed loosely by his face.

All the while, Blaine's eyes never left Kurt, his heart pounding from the closeness and the electricity between them. Finally, Kurt nodded, ever so gently tilting Blaine's head slightly down, before he back away and slid into his chair, picking up his sketchbook, "Keep your eyes on me, and don't move…"

Blaine swallowed thickly, his skin feeling like it was on fire, a boiling lava running rivers in his blood, pooling in a deep, low heat in his stomach. His fingertips twitched of their own volition from where they rested against his hip, and his breath hitched ever so slightly. He wet his lips, knowing that if Kurt hadn't noticed his rather prominent _reaction_ to his attentions before, then he certainly would have by now. And he refused to let himself be embarrassed by it. So instead, he remarked cheekily, "Why, Mr Hummel… is the great artist _blushing?_"

Kurt just smiled coyly in reply, determinedly keeping an air of mystery as his fingers glided across the page, highlighting, shadowing, bringing Blaine to life on paper, one pencil stroke at a time. Nevertheless, some things even Kurt couldn't preserve for an eternity.

Like the way Blaine's chest fluttered as quick as a hummingbird's under Kurt's unwavering gaze, or how every so often, Blaine's index finger would unconsciously drag a slow, short stroke against his stomach, twitching ever so close to his flushed, perfect erection.

No, for details like that, Kurt would have to simply be satisfied to commit them to his memory. Because he could not forget this moment.

Finally, he was satisfied his work was complete. Blaine rose slightly unsteadily to his feet, scooping up his robe from the floor, covering himself up loosely before he peered over Kurt's shoulder, "Wow…Kurt, I, just…"

Kurt just smiled, twisting in his chair, his fingertips brushing against Blaine's cheek as he guided him into an easy kiss.

* * *

Blaine came back out of his bedroom, dressed simply, choosing to forgo a dinner jacket of any kind, only wearing a plain white dress shirt and waistcoat. Kurt turned at his entrance, rubbing his hands together, "It's getting colder outside." He blinked, taking in Blaine's attire, trying not to stare too much at how the dark red satin of the waistcoat only served to further emphasize Blaine's small waist, "That suits you…"

"_Mr Anderson?"_

An insistent voice called through Blaine's door, "Lovejoy!" He hissed, pulling at Kurt's arm, "Come on!"

Kurt was too surprised to put up any kind of a fight as Blaine pulled him deeper into his suite, "Wait, my drawings!"

They heard the door slam behind them, and exchanged a glance before dashing out the back door and into the bright corridor of the ship, walking swiftly away from Blaine's rooms, a thrill shared bringing on barely contained giggles.

They were halfway down the corridor when the door they had just come through opened, and a sour faced older man came out. His purposeful strides headed towards them, and Blaine stole one last glance at Kurt before his face split into a grin, and he grabbed his arm, breaking into a run down the corridor, pulling Kurt with him, "Come on!"

Kurt couldn't help but laugh at the joint absurdity and odd _rightness _of the action. They shouldered past a few people, diving towards the elevator, "Go! Go, quick!" They both yelled, caught up in the moment.

Lovejoy impacted the grating of the lift, but he was too late; they were already going down. Kurt smirked smugly up at him as Blaine flipped him the finger with a considerable look of relish on his face. "I've wanted to do that for months…"

As soon as the doors opened again on E Deck, they were off again, breath coming in gasps and giggles as they stumbled down the corridor, adrenaline coursing through them. Kurt paused at a corner, "This guy takes his job seriously. You can't usually get such a dedicated valet these days."

"I think he was a cop." Blaine shrugged with a helpless smirk, only to have Kurt grab _his_ hand this time.

"Shit! There he is again!" Kurt swore, laughing.

They wound through corridors, somehow even making it into the boiler rooms, the acrid air burning at their lungs, but unable to dampen their spirits. Their pace slowed as they reached one of the ships massive cargo holds, and they wandered with little aim, fingertips brushing until Kurt's eyes lit up, "Well, will you look at this." He headed towards a shining automobile, strapped down to the deck. Running his eyes over it critically, he seemed to murmur more to himself than to Blaine, "It's a good model. The engine gets a bit sticky sometimes, but the steering control is excellent…"

Blaine cleared his throat pointedly, a tiny mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

Kurt smirked, willing to play along, straightening his posture and opening the door like a chauffeur, even going as far to offer Blaine his hand as he helped into the back of the car. Kurt swung the door shut and jumped up at the front, honking the horn with a loud echo as Blaine pulled the dividing glass down, leaning forward to rest his chin on Kurt's shoulder.

"Where to, sir?"

Blaine's lips brushed Kurt's ear ever so slightly, "The stars…"

Kurt's breath was stolen at the whisper, and suddenly he was being pulled easily into the back, half falling on top of Blaine, who looked up at him with a smile and the utmost trust in his eyes.

The electric charge from earlier was back, but with even more intensity as Blaine twined his fingers in with Kurt's, ever so gently playing over his fingertips as if they were the ivory keys of a piano. He swallowed, and somehow Kurt found a voice to ask, "Nervous?"

Because he was pretty sure what was happening, but if he was right, then it was _happening_, and he needed to know they were both in the same place.

Blaine's eyes bore deep into Kurt, and he shook his head, "No. I'm right where I'm supposed to be." He tilted his head slightly, "Are you?"

Kurt's stomach swooped, just for the simple pleasure that Blaine had asked him in return. He let out a steadying breath, admitting quietly, "I've never done this before."

Blaine's beautiful shy smile turned tender as he nosed at Kurt's neck, "Neither have I."

It was like the cord had finally snapped, and they both knew exactly what they wanted. Kurt gently pushed Blaine back to lie on the seat, capturing his lips in a deep kiss, letting his hands explore the body beneath him with much more fervour than he had allowed himself earlier. Blaine responded in kind, drawing Kurt's heavy long coat off his shoulders, his hands already developing what Kurt recognised to be a considerable obsession with his neck.

Kurt shifted, sitting back on Blaine's thighs, inadvertently producing sparks in both their groin, making them gasp in tandem. His artist's fingers began to undo each of the buttons on Blaine's waistcoat, relishing how Blaine watched his every move.

Blaine sat up, allowing the silken garment to be carefully slipped off, and then in what felt like barely a blink, they both managed to remove each other's shirts in a burst of frenzy, until their bare chests heaved, scarcely an inch apart.

And then Blaine took over, his hands mapping every inch of Kurt's elegant torso, his lips following in their wake as his kissed and sucked at the creamy skin. Kurt's hands found their way up into Blaine's hair, dislodging the perfectly styled locks. Swollen lips found a nipple, and Kurt's body arched involuntarily, driving his fabric encased erection against Blaine's.

Blaine pulled back, his breathing uneven and panting. And Kurt had to be sure, one last time, "This is the point of no return."

The dark haired boy swallowed roughly, "I passed that the moment you pulled me back from the ocean." He surged forward, kissing Kurt with more passion than he had thought was possible to feel.

Kurt's nerves sang with anticipation, and now he _really_ needed there to be no clothes.

With fumbling hands and misplaced limbs, it was short work for skin to hit skin. In the mix, they had twisted, and now it was Blaine who looked down on Kurt. Blaine pulled back for a moment, needing at least one second to appreciate the perfection of Kurt's body, and the welling disbelief that he was here_, now. _That Blaine was lying with another man as stunning as Kurt.

"Kurt, I need you…" Blaine rushed out with urgency as their erections pressed solidly together with a flash of heat.

Kurt shook his head, even with the prickling under his skin threatening to override reason, "We don't have anything to make it easier. I don't want to hurt you."

Blaine whined brokenly, the reality of just being with Kurt hitting him hard and fast, "Please, Kurt… Just, do _something…_"

So Kurt obeyed, reached down between them to grasp at their joint arousals firmly, an act that stole his own breath, and made Blaine's arm buckle slightly as he let his head fall to bury in Kurt's shoulder. Kurt had no idea really what he was doing, but he knew it felt _good_, and from Blaine's rather vocal responses, it seemed to be the right thing.

He rolled his thumb experimentally over the head of Blaine's cock, capturing drops of precum and spread it around. Blaine's hips bucked, grinding into Kurt with a broken gasp, "Good?" Kurt asked.

Blaine answered with a searing kiss, both of them trying to draw panting breaths in between clashes of tongues, and Kurt felt Blaine's own hand dip between them, copying Kurt's action, adding a firm twist of his wrist that sent them both spiralling to the next level.

The air in the car suddenly felt too thin, and all Kurt could comprehend was skin on skin, and the incredible sight of Blaine's face as their hands began to work faster and their bodies seemed to take over. Barely in control of his own actions anymore, Kurt found himself sucking two fingers into his mouth, before snaking an arm up around to Blaine's ass, teasing in a way that sent Blaine reeling, words tumbling from his lips, "_Oh my God_…"

Kurt pushed his slick fingers past the tight ring of muscle, gently forging deeper into Blaine's incredible heat as Blaine took over working their erections, their hips frantic.

Kurt curled his fingers on a whim, and Blaine let out a gasping broken cry that went straight to Kurt's cock. He began to work his fingers in a rhythm that matched Blaine's, dropping his other hand to join Blaine's around their erections. The heat built faster and faster, until Kurt felt like he was dangling off the edge of something incredible. His movements weren't his own anymore as Kurt's head fell back and Blaine arched, his free hand slamming to brace against the fogged up window with a choked cry.

White heat and stars flooded their bodies as they toppled over the edge together, and nothing in that moment could touch them.

Blaine slumped, panting heavily before sliding sideways to curl up against Kurt, drawing him into an impossibly deep kiss, murmuring, "I never thought I'd fall in love."

Kurt's breath was stolen by Blaine's starkly open statement, and he couldn't help the swell in his chest, "Neither did I…"

* * *

It was not until they began shivering with the chilled air that the pair untangled themselves. Blaine used his cotton undershirt to clean them up gently, throwing it away before he dressed. Kurt pressed a kiss against Blaine's lips, as a slamming rang through the hold. Their eyes met briefly, and no words were needed as they dashed away from the car, hiding behind crates and watching as two shipmen failed to catch them.

They wound their way back through the ship, tumbling out onto the deck, laughing in the crisp night air. Kurt's arms wound automatically around Blaine's waist, "Did you see those guys' faces?"

Blaine smiled, but he was no longer laughing, and odd intense look on his face. He swallowed, and Kurt could practically see his resolve solidifying, "When the ship docks, I'm getting off with you."

Kurt shook his head, unable to contain the sparkle of wonder and disbelief in his expression, "This is _crazy_…"

"I know! It doesn't make any sense!" He paused, searching Kurt's eyes, "That's why I trust it…"

Kurt desperately wanted to pull Blaine to him in that moment, and kiss the life out of him, but he couldn't, not where they stood. Blaine seemed to read his face though, and his loving smile never wavered.

A bell rang out sharp into the still air, And Kurt frowned, turning, his hands still loosely resting on Blaine's waist. Blaine frowned with innocent confusion at Kurt's slight change in demeanour, "What is it?"

"I don't know…" Kurt frowned.

Any confusion was wiped mere moments later, as a bone-shaking judder wrenched through the deck beneath their feet, pitching Blaine into Kurt.

Blaine twisted, frowning at Kurt's gaping expression, and before he turned around, only to see a great white mass looming ominously against the ship. A horrible screeching rent the air, and Kurt yelled, "Look out!"

They both stumbled backwards, hands steadying each other as chunks of ice skittered across the deck.

They could do nothing more than stare dumbly at the spectacle, side by side, trying to ignore the horrible dread cloying in their throats.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Oookay…so, I hope that went well! Because that was a whole new territory for me!


	5. Chapter 5

Author Notes: Thank you for your reviews guys! Now we're getting into the action a little more, things are going to start to deviate even more as the story changes to fit our two boys in love :)

Chapter Five

"Jesus!" Finn swore as he jumped from his bunk, his bare feet slapping into shallow water that snapped at his toes with an icy bite. He grabbed his boots, throwing open his cabin door to a panicked ruckus, seeing Puck not far down the corridor, pulling a thin sweater of his head, "Come on!" Puck called to Finn, "I'm not sticking around to find out what's going on!"

Finn nodded, "I'm not gonna argue." He looked about himself for a second, while still keeping pace with Puck, "But I need to find my brother!"

Puck shook his head, "Haven't seen him all day, and he wasn't around this evening." He clapped a firm hand on Finn's broad shoulder, his eyes holding a steely resolve, "Don't worry, we'll find him. But let's get up and out first!"

* * *

Kurt's stomach squirmed. He knew this was a bad idea, but he wasn't going to deny Blaine's request that they go and find his mother before heading down below to collect Finn. Blaine just wanted to make sure that she was okay, and let her know what had happened.

But still, Kurt couldn't quell the horrible churning sensation deep in his chest that had gripping him ever since he heard the bell.

Something was very, very wrong.

His fingertips brushed at Blaine's purposefully as they strode side by side down the first class corridor towards Blaine's suite.

"Well, look who finally showed their faces." Lovejoy, Sebastian's valet, rounded the corner, falling into step with them, his hand gripping Blaine's elbow tightly in a way that made Kurt's fists clench. Blaine was not their property. "Your brother has been very worried."

"Really?" Blaine replied mildly, shaking his elbow free, "Because I'm pretty sure that somewhere up above Cooper is laughing himself silly at the run around we just gave you."

Kurt smirked, but it quickly dropped from his face as they entered Blaine's rooms, not only to see Sebastian, but also serious looking crewmen. Blaine frowned, "What is going on here?"

"Ah. Finally." Sebastian looked up with a disdainful look.

"Is this the man, sir?" The officer of the crew looked between the pair.

"Yes. That's him." There was a look in Smythe's eyes that Kurt really didn't like, and his feelings were only amplified as two men yanked him aside, securing his arms.

"Hey! Get off me!"

"Kurt!" Blaine yelled in shocked protest, before turning to the other man, "Seb, what are they doing?"

"This is for your own good Blaine." Sebastian nodded to Lovejoy, who stepped up behind Blaine, grasping him around the chest and bodily dragging him towards the other room.

Realising what was happening, Blaine began to kick and yell, struggling against the much larger man, "No! Get _off_ me! Kurt!"

Kurt strained against his own captors, "Blaine! Blaine, it'll be okay, I promise!" The door slammed, shutting Blaine off from Kurt's view.

Sebastian barely flinched as the drama unfolded, a satisfied air about him as he simply stared coldly at Kurt, carefully enunciating his words, "You can take that foul creature away now. I don't want him anywhere near my brother in law, and if I hear of but one rumour of what has transpired here in regards to Mr Anderson's part, I will destroy you all."

Kurt just shook his head furiously, "And what the hell is it that I'm supposed to have _done?_"

"You attempted to corrupt Blaine into your perverted lifestyle. When we dock, I will have you arrested for this. And I assure you, prison is not kind to _artists_ such as you."

Kurt's mouth fell open, and he couldn't believe how his life was falling apart. "This won't work!"

Sebastian lurched forwards, seizing at Kurt's shirt, bringing their faces close enough that his hissed words were only audible to Kurt, "It already has. I always get what I want in the end. You have _lost_ him."

And then realisation hit Kurt with the same impact as the iceberg on the hull. "Oh my God," Kurt breathed, barely a whisper, "You love him…"

While the words were left unheard by everyone but their target, Sebastian still pulled back and delivered a solid punch to Kurt's gut. As Kurt doubled over in pain, eyes watering, the men began to pull him away.

When the door finally slammed behind the crewmen, effectively cutting off Kurt's renewed shouts, Sebastian straightened, taking a brief moment to push a few loosened strands of hair from his face, before setting his jaw and striding forcefully into Blaine's bedroom. He gave a sharp nod to Lovejoy, dismissing him to make sure Hummel was detained effectively, and waited until they were alone.

He was pleased to see Blaine standing mute and still in the centre of the room, clearly having heard every word of the charges levied against Kurt. He shook his head, "You can't do this…"

There was a beat, and a silence, before Sebastian broke it with a resounding _smack,_ backhanding Blaine heavily across the cheek, enough to make his head snap back, "Maybe you should have thought about that before you posed for that piece of '_art'_, you stupid little whore! Have you any comprehension of what this could do if it got out?"

"You found the drawing…" Blaine choked, wrapping his arms around his middle unconsciously, desperately wishing they were Kurt's.

Sebastian's eyes burned, and in that moment Blaine was honestly scared, but then the doors banged open, "Sorry to disturb you, sirs, but the Captain has ordered everyone on deck. Please put on your life jackets and wrap up warm."

"Can't you see we're busy?" Sebastian snapped, "Leave us be!"

"I can't do that, sir." The steward replied resolutely, "Captain's orders. May I suggest a hat and coat?"

Sebastian scowled, but complied. Blaine just followed the instructions numbly; unable to process what was happening. They found Blaine's mother easily in the grand foyer, and Blaine had to tune out everything. He couldn't listen to their petty words, his mother's irritated monologue especially turning his stomach.

His eyes caught on Mr Andrews, and felt a jerk in his heart. This man was perhaps the only other person around who looked as shell shocked and grim as Blaine felt. He sidled away from Sebastian, and caught the man's arm gently, "Mr Andrews?" The man turned, and smiled tiredly down at the young man he had grown accustomed to sitting with at dinner, their soft-spoken manners and honest opinions gelling easily. "I…I saw the iceburg... and I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth."

The man's face contorted, and he stepped down, gently taking Blaine's hands in an overly familiar gesture of kindness. His soft Irish brogue stuttered slightly as he replied quietly, "The ship will sink."

Blaine's stomach lurched, "You're certain?"

He nodded, "In a couple of hours, all this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic. Please, tell only who you must. I don't want to be responsible for causing a panic. But… don't wait. Get to a boat." Blaine stared at the older man as the chill hands around his own tightened, "You remember what I told you about the boats?"

And Blaine did; only earlier that day, before Kurt had found him, Blaine had been debating with Mr Andrews over the ethics of the lacking ratio of lifeboats to passengers. Realisation swept over him in a wave, and his eyes skimmed in disbelief over the crowd of oblivious passengers, "I won't take a place of another, but I thank you for your advice."

Mr Andrews shook his head, clasping a hand to Blaine's cheek, "You are hardly more than a boy in my eyes, and for that, I only ask that you try, if just for my piece of mind."

Blaine swallowed thickly, nodding as Mr Andrews walked away.

It wasn't long before they were up on deck, and lifeboats were beginning to be pulled into order, "Women and children, women and children first please! Orderly fashion, now, thank you!"

"This is absurd!" One woman scoffed to Blaine's right, not budging as she looked upon the boats disdainfully. "I haven't even had time to sent Alice to fetch my jewellery."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll recover!" Another woman cut over her shrewdly, her voice easily more powerful and commanding that some of the sailors, "Now why don't you sit that pert little behind of yours into that boat?"

Blaine had to smile despite himself, as Miss Sylvester stood not far away, directly women into the boats. "Let us be seated according to class?" Blaine twisted, staring incredulously at his mother's words. She turned to him, oblivious, "I hope it's not too crowded…"

"Oh Mother…_ Shut up!_" She stared at him as Blaine grasped her arms, his voice taking on a forcefulness she was unused to coming from her own son, "Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats. Half the people on this ship are going to die!"

"Not the better half…" Sebastian muttered. Blaine stared at him, his stomach sick as his mind was unable to dispel his memories of the night before, when he had danced with so many happy, shining souls.

His disgust was broken into as Miss Sylvester targeted Blaine's mother next, "Come on Ruth, get in the boat!"

"Go, Mother." Blaine muttered, not meeting her eyes.

"Blaine…" Her voice was odd, "Promise me you'll find a boat."

Blaine's eyes snapped up, his eyes fixed coolly and certainly on his mother from where she now sat in the lifeboat, "Women and children first. I believe third class is particularly full."

"Blaine! Blaine, no!"

The boat jerked slightly, and Blaine felt a comforting hand brush briefly against his arm for a moment, before Miss Sylvester walked down the deck to usher more idiot first class women into their awaiting boats. "Goodbye, Mother."

Blaine twisted on his heel, and stalked purposefully away, ignoring his mother's cries behind him. Sebastian caught hold of him, halting him in his tracks, "Where are you _going?" _ Blaine's eyes told him all he needed to know, "To _him?_ To be a whore to a gutter rat?"

Blaine shrugged, "I'd rather be his whore, than be related to you, even by marriage." Sebastian's grip slackened slightly in disbelief, and Blaine took his opportunity, escaping at a run.

* * *

Kurt tried to steady his breathing. He had been left alone, handcuffed to a pipe in the office of the Master at Arms. The water line had long risen past the porthole at Kurt's head, and he was sure he would scream himself hoarse, "Help! Can anyone hear me? Help!"

There was a rushing sound, and Kurt swore as water began creeping into the room at an alarming rate. He banged his handcuffs on the pipe even louder, wild panic gripping him as he wrenched at the solid iron, trying to pull it off the wall.

Water kept rising, biting cold, and Kurt tried to hum to himself in a poor attempt to keep his mind of his situation, and of his last memory of Blaine, being dragged away.

Speaking of Blaine…

The cold must have started to get to him, because he could have sworn…

No. He wasn't imagining it, "Blaine? Blaine! I'm in here! I'm in _here!_"

The door pushed against the rising water, and Blaine splashed in, "Kurt! Kurt, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have let them take you! I'm sorry!" Blaine waded towards Kurt, punctuating his apologies with desperate kisses as soon as he reached him.

"It's okay, it's okay Blaine. We're gonna be okay…" Kurt grinned in disbelief, taking in Blaine's uncharacteristic dishevelled appearance, "You need to get me out of these; you need to find a spare key, Blaine. Lovejoy took it with him, but it was little and silver-"

Blaine nodded, leaping to the task, cold fingers tearing at the cabinet of key sets, "These are all brass!"

"Try the drawers!"

Blaine turned the office upside down in record time, and yet still the water kept rising. "It's not here!"

Kurt swallowed down his intense urge to shiver, and kept his voice steady, "Blaine. Blaine, look at me. You need to go and find help, now. It'll be alright."

Blaine stared at Kurt, fear clear in his eyes, before he waded over and pulled Kurt into a searing kiss that dispelled some of the cold, "I'll be right back."

Weighted by his heavy, water soaked coat, Blaine began to make his way back up the flooding corridor, desperate to find someone, _anyone_…

He made it up onto the deck above, shivering violently, but determined. He would not let Kurt drown down there… His breathing came to him in short, sharp gasps as he searched, but the few terrified people he did bang into were just as scared and useless as he was.

The lights in the corridor stuttered, plunging Blaine into an inky darkness. In the pitch, Blaine's terror took hold, and he couldn't control his breathing. Oh God… he couldn't do this…Kurt was going to die and it would all be his fault! Tears stung at his eyes as an utter hopelessness seized him-

And warming glow spread along the corridor once more as the lighting recovered, dispelling Blaine's momentary panic, and highlighting his solution. He dived forwards, smashing the glass case to an axe meant in case of fire, and ran back down the corridor to Kurt.

He jolted to a halt at the top of the stairs, the water now so much higher that it had been. Logically, his brain reminded him just how cold that water was, and just how much he didn't want to get back into it.

Blaine ignored his thoughts, leaping down the steps. He dropped the axe to one side for a moment, shrugging off the encumbering coat that would hinder his swimming. A violet shudder ran up his body as his waistcoat and shirt barely kept against the freezing temperatures.

He surged into the water, axe aloft, pulling himself along. The current caught at his legs, but he pushed onwards, tumbling into the room where Kurt waited, "Will this do?"

Kurt could clearly read just how close Blaine was to falling apart, because he somehow pulled a confident grin onto his face, "That's perfect!" He shifted, pulling the chain of the handcuffs taut. "You just need a clean strike, right between them. You can do this!"

Blaine wavered uncertainly, and Kurt nodded encouragingly, "Why don't you try a few practice swings?"

That was perhaps a bad idea, because as the axe thunked heavily into the wood panelling, Blaine's poor aim was revealed, "Kurt…I…"

Kurt cut across him before Blaine's doubts could grow worse, "That's enough practice. Come on, Blaine, just one swing, I trust you. Come on, are you a boxer or not?" He pulled a smile onto his face, hoping the reminder of one of Blaine's favourite hobbies would calm him somewhat.

"Boxers don't wield axes, Kurt." Blaine shot back through gritted teeth, trying to quell the shivers that wracked his body as he hefted the axe, bringing it down in a solid swing-

Kurt didn't feel any pain, and he let out a shout of joy, throwing his now free arms around Blaine's neck, "You did it! I knew you could!"

Blaine grinned in relief, helping Kurt hop down into the water. The taller boy hissed in shock at the temperature, but was steadied by Blaine's arm winding tight around his waist, "Come on, let's find your brother and get out of here!"

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: And we pause here for a day in the vain hope that I somehow manage to churn out another chapter tomorrow night! :D Hope you liked!


	6. Chapter 6

Author Notes: Argh! I really wanted to post this yesterday, but falling asleep at your laptop without writing a word isn't really conducive to completing chapters… Anyway, thank you for reading!

Today, the 15th April, is my birthday. It is also the 100th anniversary of possibly the greatest sea tragedy in recent history. I decided to write this fic only a week ago, because I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I'm so glad I did.

Chapter Six

"Kurt!" Puck's voice cut over the shouts of the packed in people trying to surge against the gates that kept them below. He pushed through the crushing bodies, his eyes looking between the shivering pair, from Blaine's bedraggled dark curls to the shine of metal around each of Kurt's wrists, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, "They're not letting anyone up there!"

"We'll have to find another way!" Kurt yelled over the noise, "Where's-"

His question was answered for him as the hulking form of his brother cut a path through the crowd towards them, "Kurt!"

Kurt found himself swept up in Finn's strong grip, and laughed in relief, returning the hug, "Finn! You're okay!"

Finn pulled back, looking between the three of them, "The boats are all going! I managed to get a look outside before they pulled us back in."

Kurt shook his head, "It's starting to flood badly – we've gotta get out of here, _now!_"

Finn shook his head, hopelessness written clear on his face, "There's nothing this way." He gestured behind him,

"Alright." Kurt nodded, trying to keep his voice calm, reaching behind him to take a firm hold on Blaine's hand where the other boy had been standing uncertainly, slightly removed from the group, "Then let's go this way. Come on!"

Kurt made to turn and lead the way, his hand tugging tightly on Blaine's to prevent them from getting separated, until he realised the other two hadn't moved. Puck's eyes were trained steadily on their joined hands, before his gaze flicked up to their faces. Finn's muscles were bunched, clearly ready to act in defence of his brother should something happen. Kurt pulled Blaine closer to him pointedly, wrapping his other arm about his waist, "Is there a problem, Puck?" His voice was low and dangerous. They didn't have time for this bullshit!

Puck seemed to shake himself, swallowing harshly before shrugging with a self-disbelieving laugh at his own words, "What the hell. We're all gonna die the same if we don't get out of here! Stop standing around!"

Kurt nodded sharply, and pushed Blaine in front of him to get him moving. The four raced down the labyrinthine corridors, dodging wailing women and lost families as everyone drowned in their own personal terror before the waters claimed them. Blaine dived blindly around a corner, and they found themselves at one of the secondary staircases, an identical set of gates locked tight. There were less people here, and the stewards on the other side were trying to get them all the return to where they had just come.

Blaine ducked up between the other passengers, pushing through to the gates, fixing the men on the other side with a determined glare, "Open the gate."

"Go back to the main stairwell." The man refused.

"Open the gate, now!" Blaine's voice had taken on a stressed, dangerous quality. So much had happened in such a short space of time, and everything was just building up inside him, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Go back to the main stairwell, like I told you!" The man's tone was infuriating, patronising. Blaine turned away helplessly, only to see Kurt immediately behind him, his face resigned, as if he had expected no better from the world.

It wasn't right. The people down here had as much right to live as those above!

A desperate anger burned at him, and he threw himself at the bars, screaming, "God dammit! Son of a _bitch!"_

"Blaine!" Kurt pulled at his arms, alarmed, trying to get him to calm down. With the help of Finn and Puck, they dragged him back.

"They won't listen!" Blaine yelled desperately, his voice cracking.

Kurt's hands cupped his face, forcing Blaine to meet his eyes, "Then we're through with asking." He turned to the others, "Come on, help me with that bench!"

Puck's eyes lit up as he realised what Kurt's plan was, and quickly the four men began to wrench and rock at the solid wooden seat nailed down to the decking. They pulled it free with a shout, and a couple of the more quick-witted passengers pulled others aside, clearing a run-up to the gate. Realisation dawned on the stewards, "What are you doing? Stop that!"

The first impact shook their bones, but the gate didn't budge. A second try, and the metal caved, twisting at odd angles as the force was too much to hold against, "Let's go!" Kurt shouted, Finn already climbing ahead of them.

Puck pushed Blaine forward, giving him a slight boost over before clambering half over himself, hauling Kurt up behind him. Shouts of success followed them, but they were already running again, desperate to get out onto the deck.

They burst out into chaos and screams. "Shit…" Puck breathed, taking in the horrifying scene.

Kurt shook his head in disbelief, "You and Finn try the other side, see if you can find boats! We'll look this side – meet up if you find anything!"

Finn nodded, pulling Kurt into a firm embrace, before drawing back and nodding at him and Blaine with an oddly confident smile, "See you in a minute, little brother."

Kurt swallowed harshly, not trusting his voice. As Finn and Puck disappeared, he turned to Blaine, who had barely registered the exchange, staring in numb terror at everything surrounding them. Kurt grip on his upper arm shook him out it, "Come on, this way!"

Kurt pulled Blaine towards a crowd of men surging towards one of the lifeboats. The boat was being manned by a strict officer, yelling for more women. Kurt tripped forward, colliding with the body in front of him.

"_Porcelain?_" The figure turned, looking in shock between him and Blaine, and down to their desperately clasped hands.

Blaine stared at the first class woman, perhaps the only one left on the entire ship, "Miss Sylvester? What are you still doing on board? Quick, you have to get onto a boat!"

The tall woman stared calmly at the young pair who had brought life to the ship. She had taken a liking to them. Porcelain had a spark to him, a fire that shined bright and unique, no matter what others thought or said. And the young Anderson boy, who should have been as conceited and stuck up as the rest of his family had somehow found a backbone actually worthy of someone from the upper echelons of society.

Porcelain's face said it all. He didn't expect to survive this sinking. He had a grip on reality that was too strong from a life of hardship and hate. The Anderson boy was clearly scared, but there was still a certain naïve hope to his eyes that they might actually get through this.

"Ma'am, Ma'am! Please, get on the boat!" A sailor grabbed at her arm.

She sneered, elbowing him roughly in the stomach, "I will not be manhandled by anyone! And I will make my own choices, as I have always done!"

Her formidable aura and powerful voice cut through the panic, even causing a few of the more frantically pushing men to desist slightly. The sailor looked annoyed, but determined, "Ma'am, the boat is ready to launch, but we have one place for you. Please, get on the boat."

"Please, listen to him!" She heard Anderson's voice plead behind her, and with one last look at the pair, she made up her mind.

"My son will take that place." The words were out of her mouth, and she stood by them, reaching behind her and taking a tight hold of Blaine's arm, pulling him towards the boat.

"W-what?"Blaine stuttered in surprise. Nevertheless, his clothes were appropriate, if not his physical looks, for Sue to realistically be his mother. He was also comparatively smaller than the rest of the men in the press of bodies.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, women and children-"

"I am the only one left! And I am giving my place to my son! I brought him into the world, and I will make sure he continues to live in it! He's not yet eighteen. That _will_ be enough for you!"

Blaine shook his head in disbelief, twisting to Kurt, voice low and frantic, "No. Don't make me go. Please, Kurt, I want to stay with you-"

The officer had clearly realised that he would make no headway with this cantankerous woman, "Very well. Get the boy on board!"

"You heard him. Blaine, get on the boat." Sue pulled him away from Kurt, but Blaine resisted. She brought him close, "Porcelain and I will go around the other side. There are more boats there. I will get him on, I promise, but I can't get you on together. Now, _get on the boat!"_

Kurt smiled reassuringly, squeezing Blaine's hand one last time, "You see? I'll be fine. There's another boat for me. You need to go, Blaine."

Blaine was dragged back against the tide of desperate people, and shoved into the lifeboat, despite his shocked protests.

"Lower away!"

Kurt stood at Sue's side, both of them watching as the lifeboat juddered and began to lower with a dazed but safe Blaine on board.

"Thank you." Kurt murmured. "Just…I…thank you."

"You're a good liar." Sue replied, not acknowledging the gratitude.

Kurt didn't look up, quietly agreeing, "Almost as good as you." He sighed, "There isn't another boat, is there…"

Sue shook her head, genuine sorrow in her eyes, "There is for me. But not even Susan Sylvester can get a third class boy like you onto one of those lifeboats. You'll have to try your own way."

Kurt swallowed and nodded, "Then you need to go, quickly. Thank you, thank you for saving him for me."

She nodded, clasping his shoulder, "Good luck Porcelain."

Blaine looked up, watching in confusion as Miss Sylvester disappeared from view, but Kurt remained, leaning over the side to keep an eye on Blaine's boat as it was lowered. Blaine frowned, not liking the look on Kurt's face, as another firework sparkled in the air behind him.

He looked at the crying women and children around him. Apart from the sailors, he was the only man on board. The husbands, fathers, sons and brothers of these women had not been allowed to come with them. But Blaine had. Blaine was sitting on the boat, having left Kurt alone. Kurt, who he loved. He looked up desperately, vision blurred slightly from unshed tears, and saw that Kurt had been joined by a face he recognised.

Sebastian.

The older man had a horrible smirk on his face, and Kurt's jaw was fixed. Blaine didn't know what they were saying, but he didn't like it. He didn't like any of it. This wasn't right.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't leave Kurt behind.

Blaine's limbs were in motion before he had even completed the thought. The lifeboat was already nearly past the second promenade deck, and after that, Blaine wouldn't have another chance. He was on his feet, climbing over a few women, ignoring Kurt's yell from above and the sailors from the boat. He pitched himself off, his chest smacking into the side of the boat amidst screams. Hands grabbed at his waistcoat and pulled him back on board in a confused heap.

He was already off running, desperate to find Kurt.

They collided at the bottom of the grand staircase, Kurt leaping down the last few steps, drawing Blaine up into his arms, his voice cracking with tears, "You are so _stupid_ Blaine! Why did you do that? _Why?" _Blaine clung back even tighter, uncaring of the people all around them, unable to think or feel anything beyond Kurt. He was let down as Kurt pulled back slightly, grasping his face, "You are so, so stupid!"

Blaine shook his head, not even bothering to worry about the tears that slid tracks down his cheeks, over Kurt's fingers. He shook his head, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I couldn't do it!" And then Kurt was pressing frantic kisses on Blaine's lips, because damn them all to hell. As Puck said, they were all going to die the same.

Kurt wound his hands into Blaine's hair as Blaine twisted his fingers into Kurt's shirt, "Why did you do that?"

Blaine shrugged helplessly, "You jump, I jump, right?"

"Right…" Kurt smiled with a huff of disbelief, tightly pulling Blaine safely back into his arms as Blaine pressed his face into Kurt's shoulder, still shaking slightly from the adrenaline of jumping.

It was then that Kurt became aware of the mutterings around them; a buzzing that was more than just judgemental gossipers. He drew back from Blaine slowly, still keeping his arms around the other boy. Next to him, he heard Blaine take in a choked breath as he too became aware of the people around them. His arms tightened around Kurt.

The buzzing dropped off sharply, replaced by a cold, staring silence, a silence already charged with the terror and panic of the sinking. "K-kurt?" Blaine barely whispered, asking, pleading, because he had no idea what to do.

"Hummel!" A clear shout shot through the pressure of the atmosphere. Both jerked, looking up automatically, only to see an enraged Sebastian running to the top of the stairs, brandishing a gun.

A stray shot rang out, and screams erupted. A few large men lurched towards the embracing pair, a malicious intent written in their expressions. "Run!" Kurt yelled, pushing Blaine through the weakest link of the terrified, angered crowd as another shot cracked in the air.

They ran, never letting go of the other, pushing past shocked faces and jumping down one of the ornate staircases, taking three, four steps at a time in desperate, stumbling leaps. Another shot impacted water below as Sebastian's anger clouded his aim. Kurt's stomach lurched as the flooded dining room came into view, but he plunged into the icy waters without hesitation, still pulling Blaine with him.

"Blaine! Blaine, you come back here, now!" Sebastian's yells followed them, accompanied with another shot.

Kurt's shoulder strained as Blaine pulled to an unexpected halt in the water, turning, "Stop it, Seb! Why are you doing this? For the love of God, just let us go!"

Sebastian was beyond reason, and it was unclear if he even realised that he was standing waist deep in arctic sea water. He ignored Blaine's pleas, sending off a shot that impacted the glass window worryingly close to Kurt's head, "You give him back to me, Hummel! He's not yours! Blaine is mine, and you _will_ hand him to me!"

Blaine reeled back slightly at the poisonous, possessive words falling from Sebastian's lips. His frozen fingers tightened their grip on Kurt. "W-what?" All force had disappeared from his voice, swallowed by shock.

Kurt had no such trouble, yelling back, "Well, he's definitely not yours! Go to _hell_, Sebastian!" As he shouted, he pulled on a now unresisting Blaine, once again running at full pelt away from the crazy man intent on killing him and taking Blaine.

Sebastian's desperate, hateful shouts floated after them, slightly hysterical in tone, "Well I hope you enjoy your time together!"

They kept running, only coming to a stop down a small staircase leading to a flooding corridor. They waited, pressed against the wall for any sound of being pursued, chests heaving. Upon hearing none, Kurt let his shoulders relax, only to dive forward to catch Blaine as his knees buckled slightly, "Blaine. Blaine, breathe! It's okay."

"Sebastian… he…" Blaine's wild, disbelieving eyes searched out Kurt's, who simply stared at him calmly, letting Blaine get to grips with what had just happened, "But, his sister… I…"

Kurt shook his head, stroking Blaine's face soothingly, "No, honey, no. I think Sebastian might have had more on his mind than just loving you as a brother…"

Blaine flinched violently, looking ill as he realised just what might have awaited him in his future. "Oh God…"

Kurt nodded, keeping an anchoring hold on Blaine. He knew they needed to keep moving, to find another way, but wasn't sure how to break past Blaine's terrified shock.

In the end he didn't have to.

Blaine blinked, "What was that?"

They jumped down the last few steps into the calf-deep water. A little boy was standing, screaming. They exchanged a look between each other, minds made up in unison. They ran forwards, Kurt reaching the boy first, scooping him up. Blaine's eyes widened, "That door's not gonna hold!"

Kurt turned to where Blaine's eyes were looking, "Go! Go, move!"

They had barely gone ten steps when Kurt was slammed into the wall by a great hulk of a man, yelling in Russian as he pulled the boy from Kurt, running back towards the straining door. Blaine steadied Kurt, before seeing where the man was headed, "No! No, stop, you're going the wrong way!"

Blaine tried to follow and pull the man and his son back, but Kurt's hands snatched at his clothes, "No, Blaine!"

A terrible creaking noise mixed with the sounds of rushing water, and the door cracked against the weight. Blaine slipped slightly as he stopped himself, eyes widening.

The door burst in that moment, a great swathe of water rushing out from the intense pressure of being held by the door for so long. Kurt pushed Blaine down a side corridor, out of the immediate path of the water. It roared and crashed behind them, spraying against walls and tearing at the lights. Blaine's head span as the flickering darkness played with his vision, and he could barely hear Kurt's shouts over the crashing flood.

A yell was torn from Blaine as the current swept his legs from under him, taking him beneath the water and throwing his body into the corridor wall as it pull him with its force. And then he abruptly impacted one of the gates, Kurt's slamming next to him, slightly dazed but otherwise okay. The current twisted and pulled at them, flowing around them through the gates, sweeping through the corridors of the deck. There was a sucking pressure of cold about their torsos as the current eddied and pulled downwards with the obstruction of the gate.

Blaine was sucked under for a terrifying, freezing moment, icy water tearing into his windpipe as he accidentally gasped with shock. His flailing fingers grasped blindly at the gate, and a solid hand helped wrench him back, coughing and spluttering, "Blaine!" Kurt's eyes mirrored Blaine's own terror. He shouted above the roar, "I've got you! Come on – pull yourself along; we need to go back!"

With Kurt's sure movements to help, Blaine struggled against the current to follow his command. They staggered onto the steps of a nearby staircase, half crawling up them to hit a drawn gate, the water still rising behind them. Blaine slumped sideways against it, coughing water violently as Kurt wrenched at the lock without luck. He turned to Blaine, "I can't get through!"

Blaine looked shakily at the lock, and back down at the rising water, before finally fixing Kurt with a hopeless look, shivering from shock and cold, "I s-sup-pose now w-would be a b-bad time to tell you I c-can't s-wim?"

Kurt stared at him, a renewed terror burning through him. Water started to lap at their ankles, and Kurt shook his head, refusing to give up, shouting as loudly as he could, "Help! Somebody help us!"

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: So close to the end now! :) Please tell me what you thought!


	7. Chapter 7

Author Notes: Yep, still here, still going :) Thank you to all you lovely people for still sticking around!

Chapter Seven

"Sir! Sir, help us! Help us, please!" A steward had come running down the corridor, not drawn by their cries, but still, _there_.

He took one glance at them, and for a stomach dropping moment, Kurt thought he was going to leave them to drown. But then he turned, doubt warring in his face before he delved into his pocket, "Oh, bloody hell!"

He fumbled with the keys as Blaine gasped in relief, "Thank you!"

Water rose fast around them, flooding out onto the deck above, rapidly filling the corridors. "Ah, bugger!" The steward swore, his frozen fingers fumbling, unable to get the keys to co-operate. The lights flashed ominously with violent sparks, and the keys slipped. His eyes widened in horror, before he looked up at the trapped pair, "I… I dropped the keys. I'm sorry!"

Kurt and Blaine watched in horror as he fled, leaving them alone in the rising flood, "No! No, wait!"

Gritting his teeth, Kurt plunged under the water, terrifying the wits out of Blaine when he didn't emerge immediately, "Kurt!"

Kurt surfaced gasping, trying to draw air into his frozen body, keys clutched in his hands, "Which key?"

Blaine shook his head, "I-I don't know! That one!"

Water pulled at them, and they knew they would only have one chance for this to work. "Come on…come on…" Kurt muttered under his breath, desperately willing for them to get out. It couldn't end like this, drowning, trapped like rats.

"Kurt…" Blaine prodded, half subconsciously, "Kurt, come on."

"I can't find…" Kurt trailed off, the water reaching his chin. Blaine spluttered as the waters threatened to overwhelm him. He clawed at the bars to wrench himself above the waterline again. They were practically in darkness as lights failed all around them.

"Kurt!" True fear threaded Blaine's cry, and his head disappeared from view as Kurt finally clicked the key in the lock. He hauled open the gates enough for them to squeeze through, grabbing at a resurfacing Blaine and swimming with him to the next staircase before the water finally hit the ceiling.

They didn't even wait to take a breath, Kurt pushing Blaine up the stairs, forcing his brain to work against the cold, "Keep going up!"

Walls and fixtures became more decadent as they ascended, finally reaching the smoking room, blindly running up the increasing slope as the ship began to tilt even more. Someone was standing, unmoving at the fireplace, but Kurt paid them no heed.

That was until Blaine stopped, "Mr Andrews?"

The man turned, far too calm, looking desolate for the world around them, "Blaine…"

Blaine swallowed, tentatively taking a step towards him, "Won't you even make a try for it?"

Kurt pulled at his arm as the older man shook his head, "I'm sorry I couldn't build you a better ship…"

Gritting his teeth, Kurt made to bodily pull the unmoving Blaine out of the room, "It's going down fast. Blaine, we need to go. _Now._"

Blaine looked between the two, torn and confused, unable to understand how Mr Andrews could just give up without a fight. Still, he nodded, until the older man started to move, picking up the lifejacket laid over a seat, "Here, take this with you. Good luck, Blaine. Both of you…"

A lump lodged in Blaine's throat, and he threw his arms around the kind, gentle man; a man a hundred times braver than Blaine knew his own father would have been, were he on this ship. "Thank you…"

They broke out onto the deck to screams and gunshots, completely oblivious that one of the victims had been Puck. In the wrong place, in the wrong time, pushed forward into a panicked officer's sight. At the same time, Finn realised just how much trouble he was in. He said a prayer in his head, willing Puck's soul to make it safely away from this hell on earth, while at the same time fumbling with the ties on his bloodied lifejacket. He knew he wouldn't get on one of the boats now.

He was going to have to swim for it, and hope to God that he made it. Briefly, his thoughts turned to his brother, and the young aristocrat who had clearly stolen Kurt's heart.

He hoped they weren't still on board...

* * *

"We need to move to the back of the ship!" Kurt yelled to Blaine over the screams as the gradient of the deck kept increasing, Titanic's prow going under.

Blaine nodded, jaw set with determination, following Kurt as they began to wind through the surging crowd, worming their way into any gap they could find, clambering over rigging and rails in an attempt to get to the back of the ship. They pushed up a narrow set of steps to the end deck, held up by a desperately praying man. Kurt's anger surged. He had not given up yet, dammit! "You wanna walk to that valley of death a little faster, buddy?"

The deck got steeper, many people sliding back as the aft of the ship actually rose from the water below. Kurt lurched one last step, grasping onto the rails, keeping a solid arm on Blaine, hauling him up close behind. Blaine swallowed, trying to blot out the terror and panic about them. So many people still left on board. Young women, probably his own age, and children, dressed in well-worn clothes.

A wall of denial hit him full force as he finally reached saturation point with what was happening to them. Waves of an eerie calm flooded his body, coupled with a strange clarity. "Kurt." Fear was gone from his voice, despite the tears threatening to fall from his eyes, "Kurt, this is where we first met…"

Kurt smiled disbelievingly, unable to stop his lips from mirroring Blaine's strange happy thankfulness. Neither of them blamed the other for ending up where they were right now, because they could not imagine being apart. He pressed a kiss onto Blaine, holding him close.

This time, no one paid them any heed.

The ship continued to tip, more and more people began to plummet, a few even trying their luck over the end of the ship. Blaine fixed his hands either side of Kurt, pressing him against the rails, hooking his legs, "Don't let go…" he murmured.

Kurt nodded, glad to be close to Blaine, even as the world fell apart around them.

The lights died, plunging them all into darkness to desperate screams and pleas to anyone who would listen. Their cries carried to all those safe on the lifeboats, like Blaine's mother and Miss Sylvester; even Sebastian, who had ruthlessly forced his way onto one of the last boats. The less fortunate, those like Finn who were frantically trying to swim away to avoid being caught in the suction, were no less deaf to the terror of those still on board. Unlike some, he had made it quite far, his decision to not try for the last lifeboats saving his life.

A thunderous crunching split the air, so loud that it even drowned out the screams. Both Kurt and Blaine had their backs to the sinking ship, and so didn't see the giant cracks rend through the middle, iron splitting and bending like balsa wood against the force of pressure.

The aft of the ship split free, and plummeted back to the ocean with a splash of tidal proportions. Without even barely a minute's pause, the process began to happen all over again, the weight of the flooded front half pulling the rest of the ship under. Blaine readjusted his grip, but his frozen fingers would barely co-operate, and they were tipping fast.

"We need to move!" He yelled at Kurt, already clambering up and over, hauling himself up with the rigging. Kurt's feet slipped on the deck as the floor beneath him reached nearly vertical, looking up to see Blaine crouched on the rails above him in a complete role reversal of how they first met, "Give me your hand!"

Kurt gladly complied, letting Blaine help him up and over to lie against the rails. Their new position afforded them a horrifying view of struggling people and a sheer drop, "What's happening?"

There was a chilling creak, and the Titanic seemed to hold in place, simply hovering at a vertical incline. "I don't know!"

People began to drop, their grips failing them. Some were fortunate, impacting bulkheads on the way down, giving them a swift, oblivious end.

And then the Titanic began to sink its final stretch.

Kurt's muscles bunched ready, pulling himself up to a crouch, "This is it!"

Blaine really wished Kurt hadn't said that, because it only served to bring his terror back full force. "Oh God…"

Kurt grabbed onto his hand tightly, his eyes determined and confident, "The ship is going to suck us down. Take a deep breath, when I say."

"I can't do this…" The words tumbled straight from Blaine's brain to his lips, the encroaching water bringing back the memories of Cooper's death to a pinnacle. Memories that, until this point, he had managed to push down deep.

"Yes you can, Blaine! When we hit the water, I need you to kick for the surface, and _keep kicking_. Do _not_ let go of my hand!"

Kurt watched desperately, needing a sign from Blaine that he had taken the instructions in. Finally, there was a jerky nod, "Okay…"

"We can do this, Blaine." Kurt yelled, "We're gonna make it! Trust me!"

Blaine's hand clutched onto his hand in a bone crushing grip that brought some feeling back into Kurt's frozen extremities, "I trust you."

There was barely any of the ship left above the surface by now, freezing water rushing angrily towards them. Kurt's yell cut through it all like a knife into Blaine, "Now!"

Blaine took a deep, gasping breath in tandem with Kurt, who at the very last minute levered himself to stand. The water swallowed them whole, and Kurt kicked off the ship harshly, giving himself some momentum and dragging Blaine with him, aided by the lifejacket Blaine wore.

The current was impossibly strong, the ship's suction clawing at their bodies. Blaine kicked desperately, so numb he could barely feel Kurt's hand in his. Direction had no meaning, thought had no purchase.

The stabbing cold threatened to overwhelm Blaine entirely, but then a terror punched through his consciousness before it could.

Kurt's hand was gone.

Desperate and alone, Blaine struggled to the surface, letting the buoyancy in his lifejacket tell him which way was up as the suction lessened. His limbs flailed in no discernible rhythm, but still he somehow managed to break the surface.

The haunting calm of the water below was erased instantly by screams of terror in a writhing sea of people. He couldn't see Kurt. Where was Kurt? No, no, no, nonono- "Kurt! _Kurt!"_

His cries mixed in with the cacophony rising up to the night around them. Something pulled on his shoulder, and he turned, hoping it was Kurt, only to be pushed under by a great hulk of a man, blind and desperate in his fear. Blaine kicked him frantically in the shins, dislodging him for a second, "Let go! Let me g-mrgh!" Blaine's words were cut off as he was pushed under again, water rushing in his ears and past his lips.

Suddenly the pressure was gone, and he was hauled up coughing, frozen air refusing to enter his lungs. "Blaine!"

"Kurt!" Blaine's vision was completely filled with those beautiful ocean eyes, the confident fire in them not yet snuffed out.

"Blaine, I need you to swim for me! Come on, swim!" Kurt began to cut sure strokes through the water, pulling Blaine with him. If Blaine had been more coherent, he might have protested, might have denied his ability.

As it was, Blaine's brain was so numb that he just let Kurt guide him. They splashed and struggled, trying desperately to make it away from the immediate crush of drowning people as more broke the surface against the suction.

Blaine genuinely had no concept of time. He had no idea how long Kurt determinedly pulled him along, swimming strongly despite the below freezing waters. The people thinned out, and then Blaine found himself being pulled to an ornate floating door, ripped from its hinges and bobbing gently, "Get on Blaine!"

He didn't argue, again letting his body just follow Kurt's commands automatically. So cold. How was it possible to be _this cold_? Vaguely, he noticed Kurt trying to get on the door after him, but it tipped violently, unable to keep horizontal with the badly balanced weight, "Kurt…" Blaine mumbled, exhausted, cold and confused.

Kurt didn't reply, just shoving Blaine more onto the door, "We can't both get on… It's okay. I can swim, remember?"

There was a false confidence in Kurt's voice that resonated slightly in Blaine, waking him up from his stupor. His words tumbled out thick and muddled, "But I've got a lifejacket…"

Kurt pulled a fake smile, his pale skin tinged a translucent blue. He brought his elbows up to rest on the door, shoulders hunched, his hands clasped tightly about Blaine's as he let their foreheads fall together, "You will stay on that door, Blaine."

Blaine shook his head as a whistle began to scream through the air, a struggling sailor yelling hoarsely, "Return the boats!"

"See? The boats are coming back! I won't be in here much longer." Kurt stumbled over his words, both from the cold, and a seeping doubt.

Blaine shook his head again, more violently this time, "You know who're on those boats as well as I do! I will not lie up here while you freeze! I am not better than you, Kurt, just because I was born to a different family!" His words gathered momentum and force as he started to shuffle towards the edge of the door.

"Blaine, don't you _dare!_" Kurt snapped shrilly,_ "_I swear, if you-"

"Kurt!" Another voice cut over the chaotic blur, and Kurt twisted in the water to see one of the few people in the water swimming _towards_ the site of the sinking.

Kurt blinked in disbelief, "Finn? _Finn! _Oh my god, you made it!"

Finn swam a couple of last strong strokes, hooking himself onto the door next to Blaine's shoulder, "You doubted me?"

"Whose blood is that, Finn?" Blaine stuttered quietly, his eyes drawn to the red stained seeped deep into the lifejacket's fabric.

Kurt's eyes widened, "Oh my god, Finn! Are you okay? What-"

"Puck. He got shot." Finn replied grimly, "It was stupid… pointless. He could've made it…"

"What part of this isn't pointless?" Blaine murmured.

Finn seemed to finally take in the immediate scene around him, from Blaine's huddled, shivering form on the broken door, to Kurt's clenched jaw as he attempted to still his shaking. Finn shook his head, clearing his brain slightly as the cold continued to bite, before he let go of the door. Roughly, his large arms wrapped around Kurt, eliciting a cry of shock that woke both boys up. Blaine blinked dazedly. His argument with Kurt had been briefly forgotten as his sluggish brain struggled to grasp new thoughts, but now it returned full force.

Realising what Finn was doing, Blaine shifted all his weight to the opposite end of the door as the large boy physically heaved Kurt onto the makeshift raft. Finn's lifejacket kept him above water until he managed to situate his brother next to Blaine, squeezed against his side, "Finn! What the hell? What about you?" Kurt squawked.

Finn shrugged clumsily as he paddled back to the end of the door, taking Kurt's old place at their heads, "I wouldn't fit." His tone was matter of fact, his eyes brokering no argument as he stared Kurt down.

Blaine, for his part, was too exhausted to think beyond the reality of Kurt's body pressed against his own. His head dropped to the wood with a slight thud, his limbs threading their way into contact with Kurt, seeking body heat that wasn't there. Kurt stared at Finn, and a silent conversation passed between the two brothers. Finally Kurt nodded jerkily, reaching one arm around a shivering Blaine, pulling the smaller boy into his chest, while taking his brother's hand in the other.

They would wait it out together.

* * *

Blaine's voice mumbled into Kurt's shirt, dislodged a few ice crystals from his curls as he turned his head, "It's getting quiet…"

Kurt tightened his arm reflexively about Blaine's violently shaking body, not doing much better himself. His teeth chattered as he helplessly sought for words. Finn moved in the water, "They'll be coming back soon, Blaine. It won't be much longer."

Kurt had forgotten how good his brother was at false optimism and denial. His shifted Blaine slightly, jolting him, "Stay awake for me Blaine. You can't fall asleep yet."

"M'w..ke…" Blaine slurred, curling tighter into Kurt.

Kurt shakily kissed the top of his ice encrusted hair, "I know." He placated tenderly, "Just checking."

Kurt looked up to see Finn watching them. "I'm glad you met him…"

Kurt smiled bitterly, his happiness at his brother's honest words tempered by their situation, "For however little it lasted…"

Finn frowned, his grip on Kurt's hand suddenly painful, "Don't, Kurt. You're going to survive this. _Both _of you!" His words grew more forceful to combat Kurt's pitying look, as he clearly believing Finn to be deluded, "You are gonna grow old together. You're gonna live till the world accepts you and who you are. You are gonna _marry_ Blaine one day, and you're gonna see your dreams come true. I know you, Kurt, and you _are_ gonna make it!"

As speeches go, it was pretty poorly structured, but Finn's passion more than made up for it. Kurt shook with a particularly violent tremor, "Finn…I'm so sorry I got you into this…"

Finn shook his head determinedly, "You winning those tickets was fate. I know you don't believe in that… but you would never have met Blaine! You might have been miserable forever! And if you hadn't persuaded me to go to Europe with you in the first place, I'd have never have met Rachel…"

"But now you might never see her again…"

"Kurt…" Finn pulled at Kurt's hand until his brother looked up, "No regrets. Promise me you won't give up. No matter what happens. No matter what people try to throw at you. Promise me you'll live, and see Mom and Dad again, and keep loving Blaine. _Promise me!_"

And Kurt could do nothing but promise.

* * *

The night had, if it was even possible, grown colder. Silence had fallen a long time ago, voices growing silent, one by one as they succumbed to the freezing water. The only sound now was Kurt's soft voice, gliding softly over the mirror-sheen expanse of water in a gentle, raspy melody.

Kurt lay on his back, staring up at the brilliant sprays of stars as they glittered in the darkness, one hand above his head still tightly grasped in Finn's grip. Blaine was coiled tightly across Kurt's chest, holding onto Kurt's arm where he kept his hold about Blaine's waist. They had stopped shivering a while ago, the cold leeching deep into their bones.

Something glimmered against the water out of the corner of Kurt's eye. Something warmer in colour than the cold silver of starlight. He blinked as it happened again, the muscles on his face twitching in a shadow of a frown. He turned his head, and had to stare at the sight for a long while before anything started to process.

A boat.

A boat had come back for them.

Kurt's brain began to work faster then, and he forced his body to move, somehow dredging up an energy from some last ditch survival instinct. He turned to Blaine and Finn, and the sight of them nearly stopped his heart. They were practically blue, covered in ice crystals that made morbid statues of their bodies, "_Blaine..." _ Kurt's voice didn't make it above a whisper, and even that was painful.

Blaine didn't respond. Kurt shook at Finn's dead weight of a hand, but still, there was no movement from the pair. More forcefully, desperately, Kurt used his free arm to shake Blaine, his stomach lurching when Blaine's head just lolled like a rag-doll, completely unresponsive. "Blaine...Finn… wake up, there's a boat…" Still no reaction. Kurt wanted to scream in their faces, he wanted to yell and shout, because they could _not _be dead! A painful sob tore through Kurt, "Wake up! Wake up! Finn, Blaine… Wake up! _Please wake up…"_

The lifeboat continued to drift away from them, sending mocking ripples skittering across the water in ribbons of yellow light.

The men Kurt loved remained still, human ice sculptures floating on the sea.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Cliffhanger! :D


	8. Chapter 8

Author Notes: Eek! Of all the chapters for me to leave a gap between – I'm so sorry! I just haven't had time to write these last few days, which is what I get for putting myself on such an intensive schedule! Thank you to all readers, and here's the continuation of the cliffie!

Chapter Eight

A dry sob welled in Kurt's throat, and he was dimly aware of the light from the boat continuing to drift past, completely oblivious to him. This couldn't be happening. They couldn't have survived this long, only to be torn from him at the last moment. He kept repeating the painful, tear-filled mantra, desperate for a change he couldn't see, "Wake _up_…"

Anger welled deep within Kurt, at everything. At Titanic, for sinking; at Finn, for making him get on the door; at Blaine, for saying goodbye… for leaving him alone.

_Promise me…_

Finn's words still rang clear and true in his head, but Kurt just _couldn't_. He pulled Blaine's limp body to him tightly, never letting go of Finn's hand as he let his head drop back to rest on the door. Warm tears burnt his freezing skin, leaking from behind closed lids as choked sobs violently spasmed in his throat.

Unbidden, images painted themselves in broad, vibrant brushstrokes across his mind.

Finn, standing with Rachel on the bank of the Seine as Kurt drew them, capturing their happy love, bathed in moonlight. And then his brother's face when they realised they had won the tickets…

Blaine, the first time Kurt ever saw him, so sad, beautiful and removed, contrasted so strikingly against the radiant memory of Blaine's naked body pressed against Kurt's own, coupled with a heat that was nearly incomprehensible now in the frozen ocean, and a love that was seared into his soul.

And then there was his father… The strongest man Kurt had ever, and would ever know. The picture of the last time they saw each other was something Kurt would never forget.

He wouldn't even know why Kurt never came home, why Finn and Kurt never contacted their parents again. They weren't on the ship's manifests, they didn't have time to send a message before they sailed.

They truly would be lost souls of the sea.

_Promise me…_

No. Kurt would not give up. Kurt Hummel would not die on this freezing ocean, not tonight, not ever. He would _live_.

Kurt forced his eyes open with a great surge of will, only to see the boat much further away, "_Come back… Come back!"_

His voice was gone, entirely, barely scratching above a whisper. He looked about himself frantically, before remembering the officer with the whistle. Which meant he would have to get off the door… He would have to get off the door, and leave Finn and Blaine…

_Survive…_

With an icy crunch, Kurt wrenched his hand from his dead brother's last grip, pressing his frozen lips to Finn's cold forehead, "_Thank you…" _Two simple words that could not even go an inch to describe what Kurt felt, that could never convey everything the brothers had experienced together, everything that Finn had been. As Kurt pulled back, so Finn's lifeless body began to drift from the door, gently guided by the soft ripples of the water, kept afloat by Puck's lifejacket.

Kurt shifted his grip on Blaine, rolling him ever so tenderly onto his back, carefully extricating Blaine's pliable hold from around Kurt's body. Despite knowing that the boat was getting ever further away, Kurt couldn't bring himself to just leave, not yet, not without _something_…

Except he had no idea what to say…

So Kurt just bent and kissed Blaine's cheek, lingering in the last kiss he would ever have, "_I'm never saying goodbye to you…_"

A flicker. So miniscule it shouldn't even have been there. So fleeting it could easily have been all in Kurt's head.

But it was enough to get Kurt's brain working. It was enough for him to weigh the difference between how Finn and Blaine's bodies had felt in his grip, it was enough for him-

"_Blaine? Blaine, please, please, Blaine?" _His voice was so hoarse now he wasn't even sure he was speaking out loud.

There. A shine of amber behind ice-encrusted eye lashes, the smallest twitch as Blaine's head moved ever so slightly of its own accord.

"_Stay with me, don't leave, stay with me!" _Kurt shook Blaine's shoulders violently,noticing more now how the body next to him lacked the solid dead weight of a corpse. But he knew it wouldn't be long.

Before he could even think about it too closely, Kurt rolled off the door and into the water. He nearly went under straight away, no lifejacket to keep him afloat, but he forced his body through it. Twisting to check he hadn't dislodged Blaine, Kurt began to struggle to his goal. The sailor's body was so close, but Kurt was frozen to the core. The brief glimpse brilliant amber burnt brightly in his mind's eye, pushing him onwards, until finally he latched onto the floating body of the officer, wrenching the whistle from his dead lips, and blew.

Muddled voices cut through the night air, and Kurt was dimly aware of the light turning, of it coming back. He wasn't sure what they were saying, his mind occupied on only three things – Blaine, whistling, and not drowning.

As the boat drew closer, Kurt dropped the whistle, his single-minded determination setting him to begin swimming back to Blaine.

"Jesus! What's he doing? Stop! Here, we've come to help you! Just stay still, we'll pull you in!"

"He don't even have a jacket on 'im! How's 'e even still alive?"

"Pull him in now, quick!"

Kurt hadn't even been fully aware that the boat had drawn so close to him, so intent he was on getting back to Blaine. But then strong, warm arms were wrapped around him, and he was hauled from the water, limbs kicking.

"Calm down! It's okay, calm down, we've got you!"

Kurt shook his head violently as they manhandled him, wrapping him vigorously in a blanket, rubbing his arms. The sudden change in position out of the water had completely derailed his thoughts, tendrils of ice wrapped tightly about his brain.

Until they started rowing again. Until they started rowing _the wrong way._

"_No!"_ The cry tore from Kurt's throat, and somehow he fought frantically against the constricting blankets and arms.

"Bloody hell, he's gone feral! Sir, what do I do?"

Another set of hands were on him, and Kurt was fighting dirty now, trying to bite, scratch, claw his way free. _BlaineBlaineBlaineBlaine-_

"Calm down kid!" Hands were on his face, forcing him to look up into the other man's eyes, "Calm down, it's okay…"

Kurt's brain finally connected to his voice again, "_D-d-do-or…"_

The man holding him frowned honestly, his Welsh tones lilting in confusion, "Door? What are you-"

"_D-door!" _Kurt bit out more forcefully, _"Aliv-ve… You have t-to g-go b-ac-ck!" _His hand shot out,frozen fingers somehow wrapping a weak grip into the officer's lapels.

The man frowned, and in that horrible moment, Kurt saw them rowing away, he saw them leaving, but then the officer stood, looking across the water about them, before pointing, "There! What's that?"

"Sir? He's just confused! There isn't anything out there…"

"No, there, out on the water, there's a body on that wreckage, where this one was headed!"

One of the rowers shook his head grimly, "No movement, sir…"

The officer rounded on the men, "And will you be able to live with yourself if you're wrong? Row men, now!"

Fully expecting to find yet another gut-wrenching corpse, the men rowed nonetheless, bringing the lifeboat gently up alongside what they could now see to once have been an ornate door from the ship. "Check him!"

The closest sailor bent over, his warm hand reaching to Blaine's neck to check for a pulse where Kurt's numb fingers had been incapable. He frowned, moving his hand to cover Blaine's nose and mouth, while Kurt watched, detached, unable to let himself think the worst, not when hope had so cruelly been returned to him, "Shit! He's breathing!"

All the men leapt into action, making slight work of pulling Blaine's limp body on board. Instantly, the lifejacket was removed, and a mountain of blankets was wrapped around him, cocooning Blaine as they tried to rub some life into him. "Come on, wake up for me… open those eyes…" The officer was tapping Blaine's cheek hard, and if Kurt had any voice left, he would have cried with joy when Blaine _finally_ opened his eyes again, staring at the stranger in hopeless confusion. "That's good! It's okay, you're safe now."

On seeing Blaine open his eyes, Kurt immediately began crawling towards him, dislodging a large proportion of his blankets in the process, and probably annoying the rower who had been holding him. The renewed struggle – rather one sided, even if Kurt wouldn't be one to admit it – created noise that drew Blaine's gaze, "_K'rt?_"

The officer in charge of the boat shook his head in relieved exasperation, "Just get the pair of them settled. He's looked out pretty well for this one so far… Keep a close eye, mind – don't let either fall asleep – and let's see if we can't find any more!"

With renewed vigour, the sailors leapt to follow orders, but Kurt and Blaine only had eyes for each other. Still breathing. Still alive.

Kurt rearranged himself next to Blaine, half pulling the other boy into his own blanket cocoon, wrapping his arms tightly about him, damn any comments to hell. He wouldn't let Blaine go again.

The little boat continued to drift silently through the ocean graveyard. Only five more survivors were pulled aboard after Kurt and Blaine, and no other lifeboats came near.

It wasn't until the _Carpathia_ loomed on the dawn-streaked horizon that Kurt actually let himself believe that they had made it.

He held Blaine tighter, and this time, Blaine squeezed back.

* * *

Sitting on the steerage deck of their rescue ship, Kurt and Blaine existed in a strange semi-reality, the surreal banality of the people around them painting the morning with the colours of a dream. First class passengers of the _Carpathia_ looked down on them from above, as if they were all some kind of oddity, a form of entertainment to fill their days.

_Look at those quaint poor wretches, it's a wonder they survived at all…_

Wailing wives and the laughter of playing children juxtaposed sharply in their ears, the young already healing in a way that their elders never would.

Kurt felt a tiny tremor pass through Blaine's arm beneath his hand, as they sat out of the way, still wrapped up and clutching the hot drinks that the servants of _Carpathia _had forced to them. He fixed him with concern, and Blaine somehow pulled a weak ghost of a smile onto his face, "I'm okay…"

His voice was as wrecked as Kurt's, nearly lost in the sea breeze. Kurt sighed, leaning into Blaine, resting his head on his shoulder. He had been so scared when they had finally pulled Blaine from the water, so scared that he still might not make it, that he still might leave Kurt alone. He felt Blaine's cheek fall to rest on the top of his head, the blankets affording them an element of obscurity.

Kurt let the reality of Blaine's presence wash over him, blotting out the world for a little while longer. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw water, terror and Finn. It was perhaps for this reason that he didn't register Blaine's head lift slightly as he heard a brief commotion behind him; as he heard his own name, in a voice that was painfully familiar.

"_Blaine?" _Blaine twisted slightly, to see a very alive Sebastian hastily releasing a short, dark haired man, "Oh. Sorry…"

Of course. Of course Sebastian had survived. Blaine didn't know why he was surprised. Involuntarily, his mind flashed violently, conjuring up a swathe of faces, from Finn, to Puck, to Mr Andrews, and then to those he would never know the name of, like the man and his son, swept away in the corridor, and the young woman who lost her grip on the rails as she plunged down the vertical deck…

Why had their lives been the ones to be lost?

It would be so simple to turn around. Blaine was of no delusions as to who Sebastian was looking for. It would be so easy to stand, to come back to life for his mother, to his future wife, to his future brother in law…

But he didn't move an inch, only turning to rest his head back on Kurt's, willing Sebastian to walk away. They would never know that he lived, because he couldn't go back, he couldn't live the life they had planned for him, even less now, after all he had seen.

As far as he was concerned, Blaine Anderson had died on the Titanic, long before she had even hit the iceberg.

* * *

Kurt had barely spoken five words since their rescue, unable to form words as they sailed further and further away from the final resting place of the Titanic, of Finn. He had hardly relinquished his grip on Blaine the entire time, needing to reassure himself that he wasn't imagining his presence.

Rain had begun to fall hard the closer they got to land, and part of Kurt wondered if he would ever be warm again. He knew they should probably have gone inside, but as the Statue of Liberty floated into view, Kurt just hadn't been able to tear himself away, the lack of Finn's enthusiastic love of the landmark hitting him raw. Blaine stayed by his side, dark curls plastered to his forehead as he blinked away the drops of rain from his eyes.

"Excuse me, mate? Can I take your names?" A young sailor had approached Blaine, clipboard in hand, his umbrella clutched tightly.

Blaine stared at the man blankly, suddenly having no idea what to say. The passenger manifest of survivors would be available for all to see, and then Blaine would be found. They both would, and all they had been through together would be for nothing, because Blaine knew that Sebastian wouldn't just give up if he knew they had survived…

Kurt blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a dream, tearing his gaze from the Statue and the sea. He turned, slowly but pointedly lifting his arm from where it had rested continuously against Blaine's side to curl tightly around him shoulders. Blaine's head whipped round with enough force to make him dizzy, staring at Kurt as if he had finally lost his mind. The sailor frowned at them uncertainly.

But then Kurt just smiled softly, taking the one last gift Finn could give him, "Hudson. Kurt and Blaine Hudson."

Comprehension dawned on the sailor's face as he automatically took them to be brothers, the anonymity of Finn's name protecting them from anyone who might come looking, from anyone who might do them harm. He nodded, "Thank you."

Blaine continued to stare at Kurt in shock, and for a moment, Kurt had a rush of doubt, "I'm sorry… I just assumed that you… and with Sebastian and – I shouldn't have-"

"I love you." Blaine's voice was sure and plain, even if it was barely a whisper only Kurt could hear.

Kurt halted midsentence, and desperately wanted to kiss Blaine in that moment. "I love you too," he breathed.

"What happens now?" Blaine asked, still uncertain of his place in Kurt's future.

"I need to go home." Kurt sighed softly, his longing amplified by his exhaustion, "And I want you to come with me."

Blaine just smiled at Kurt with a complete trust. A trust that could only be born from going through what they had.

They were free. They were together. It was never going to be easy, but they knew they were never letting go of each other's hands, for as long as they lived.

**FIN**

Author Notes: Thank you for reading! I was going to continue beyond this, but after much deliberation, I decided that any more would simply be drawing it out. I appreciate all your support and reviews, so until next time :D xxxx


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